


Misery Loves Company

by Shadowkira



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/F, Horror, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowkira/pseuds/Shadowkira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Best selling Author Quinn Fabray is on a writing retreat at her cabin in the remote town of Silver Creek Colorado. Between sharing goodbyes with her mistress and being rushed to leave by her husband, Quinn makes the mistake of leaving during a freak blizzard. One manuscript and a car crash later, she wakes up to find herself in the home of her biggest fan.</p><p>Pairing(s): Unrequited Faberry / Quinntana / Fuinn / Bram</p><p>This was written for my lovely girlfriend, even if she didn't actually want it. I love you even though we ship different ships baby!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlixJay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlixJay/gifts).



> Inspired by Stephen King's Misery, Swim Fan and the Roommate. ;)
> 
> I was planning on posting this as a one-shot as was requested on Tumblr but... This story is just too big guys, it is bigger than I originally thought. I have still taken my time with it and I really like how it came out. I just have to finish the last portion of it now and type up the rest I have written so the next update should come soonish. Hope you like it!

 

 

  
_Shhhh, Its ok..._   
_I'm right here.._   
_I promise..._   
_I won't leave you.._   
_Everything will be ok..._   
_I wont.._   
_Leave you..._   
_Ever..._

* * *

_  
_

Quinn groaned and fumbled around for her phone as it buzzed loudly, "Hello?" She croaked, her voice still thick and husky from sleep.

"Hi honey, no. I'm sorry I didn't call you when I got in... I was exhausted." She breathed, fighting back a yawn as her husband responded on the line.

"Mhmm, I love you too." She mumbled, glad he wasn't going to keep her on the phone for long. "Yes Finn, I will give you a call first thing tomorrow, you too. Bye." The blonde sighed and ended the call, her arm flopping back to the bed with a muted thud.

"He really is clueless, isn't he?"

Quinn's features softened as the body next to her shifted and the covers fell away to expose tan flesh.

"He never has been very observant..." She agreed, watching as the brunette turned to face her completely.

Santana frowned and reached up to cup the other woman's cheek. "You deserve better than that Oaf. You know that, right?" She asked, her dark eyes searching the hazel ones watching her.

Quinn nodded in agreement and leaned into the other woman's touch. "He loved me, told me I was beautiful when no one else did."

"That didn't mean you were obligated to marry him and you definitely don't have to stick around. This cabin is yours, right? Stay here, I'll keep you company."

"Is that all?" The blonde asked before tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.

Santana chuckled gently, "Of course not. If you didn't belong to someone else... I would have already asked you to be my girl." She said sincerely before leaning in to capture the blonde's lips.

Quinn smiled into the kiss, although she often found it difficult to trust words alone; Santana had stuck by her for years. She was there when Finn was not, even when Quinn was home and he was too busy with work. Santana was there, she was always there. As there as she could be, even with the distance between them.

The two kept in touch as much as possible via call, email and text. And Finn Hudson barely even knew Santana's name. And that wasn't for lack of trying on Quinn's part, she brought the brunette up often. Hoping to make Finn more aware on his own. She wanted to see if he would become curious enough to care. But he never did. Santana was just another uninteresting feminine story he didn't have time to hear.

The blonde blinked, coming back to reality as Santana's thumb stroked her cheek. "I would never let you feel unappreciated." She whispered, her tone and eyes reflecting her vulnerability.

Quinn's features softened into a warm smile, "Don't you already have me?" She asked before ducking her head to kiss the brunette's full, pouty lips.

 

* * *

 

Santana frowned and chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked out of the window. "When are you leaving again?"

"Monday, what's wrong? This is like the fifth time you've asked."

"I know, I'm sorry. Just... Promise me you'll be careful? There's supposed to be a big storm coming... I just don't want you getting stuck on one of the mountain roads or worse..." The brunette said turning from the window with her arms wrapped tightly around her torso.

Quinn shook her head with a smile before rising from her desk to approach the other woman. "I'll be careful. And I'll have my phone charged and I won't drive unless I feel absolutely safe to do so. Okay?"

Santana sighed and leaned into the blonde's open arms, "Okay, I just hate how you picked the least populated point up here with the shittiest cell reception..."

Quinn grinned, "That's why it's perfect, its my little get away. Limited cell phone use, no TV, no crowd... Just me. And now, me and _you_."

Santana smiled at that, "Okay. I've got to go... Sheriff duties and all that." She mumbled, squeezing the taller woman before pulling away slightly.

Quinn nodded, leaning in to give the brunette a quick peck on the lips. "Mmm... Sexy. Maybe I will do something bad so that I get a return visit... In uniform."

Santana rolled her eyes, swatting the blonde's ass playfully as she moved to gather her things.

"No way. Not again. I showed up at the precinct with cum stains on my pants. Luckily I had spares!"

Quinn bit her lip and watched as the shorter woman bent down to grab her boots. "And you're sure we don't have time for a quickie?"

Santana shot her a mock glare, "No. There's no such thing as a quickie with you, Quinn Fabray."

 

* * *

 

"Yes Finn, I heard you. I just- I told you that I wouldn't be leaving until tomorrow!" Quinn bit out in an exasperated tone. "Of course you didn't hear that part. You only ever hear what you want to." She spat, angrily packing her suitcase. "No, it's fine. I finished what I was here to do and believe me... I am well aware that your business gala is much more important than my hobby."

She shook her head, tugging the zipper to her suitcase roughly. "No, Finn. I am not being ridiculous, this trip was scheduled for months and you didn't tell me about this gala until now."

Quinn ran a hand through her hair and exhaled heavily, "It doesn't matter. I need to go, it looks awful outside. So I would really like to get moving." She said, hanging up without a goodbye and ignoring his rushed 'I love you.'

A half an hour later she was on the road, flurries dancing in front of her windshield as she drove. Within minutes the light snow had gotten significantly heavier, making it difficult to see.

Quinn bit her lip and eased onto the breaks, knowing that she needed to take the windy mountain road more slowly.

She was maneuvering around a sharp turn when her tires lost their traction causing her to fishtail erratically. Quinn cursed and tried to gently correct her vehicle but there wasn't enough time. She grit her teeth and released the steering wheel to shield her head and face as she hit the guard rail.

The blonde hissed in pain as her forearms and the very top of her forehead hit the steering wheel as her car rushed over the cliff and bounced off of the rocks.

She didn't even have time to whimper as she felt the car skidding along the rough terrain. The air was pushed from her lungs anyway and she fell into unconsciousness when she finally hit the snow bank at the bottom. Her head had bounced heavily against the window, breaking the glass.

The car's emergency alarm beeped insistently and something beneath the hood hissed as the warm metal settled further into the snow.

Quinn was oblivious to it all, including the figure that peered over the mangled guard rail from above.

 

* * *

 

Quinn groaned, her eyes fluttering open to stare blearily at her surroundings. The first thing that came into her line of sight was what appeared to be a very simplified version of an Intravenous Drip. The bag of translucent liquid was hanging from a plain metal stand, the cord ran from the bag and down to her left arm.

The room around her was foreign, it was homey and somewhat plain. There was a simple wooden desk with an unlit lamp atop it and a large bay window to the right. There was a nightstand with a lit candle, a dresser and two doors to her left.

Quinn's fingers tightened instinctively in the thick quilted comforter as one of the two doors was opened slowly.

"Oh, good! You are finally awake, you have been out cold for two days! How are you feeling?"

The blonde remained silent, her eyes appraising the other woman carefully.

The brunette merely smiled, moving passed the bed to fuss with the curtains for a moment. The room was dark, save for the minimal light coming from the flickering candle by her bedside. It made it difficult to get a good look at the stranger but her short stature and thin body made Quinn feel a little more at ease.

When she was done by the window, the brunette made her way over to sit at the end of the bed expectantly.

"I'm sore." Quinn whispered finally, her voice coming out rough and small from lack of use. She could slowly feel her body relaxing, despite how close the stranger was sitting to her. She seemed harmless enough. "Where am I?" She asked, glancing toward the window and the darkened sky. Large snowflakes were still falling lazily and she silently contemplated how much had fallen since her accident.

"My home." The brunette responded simply, making Quinn quirk a brow. "Apologies, you are still on the mountain... We are several miles South, about half way down. I was coming home when I saw your tire tracks and what was left of the guard rail." She sucked in a deep breath before continuing, "Going over that cliff made it a little difficult to get down to you... So I drove home to swap out my truck for my snow mobile and something suitable to carry you on."

"You were coming down the mountain?" Quinn asked, her eyes narrowing. "My cabin is the last residence on that road, there's no outlet..." She said, remembering distinctly that she hadn't made it from the road that led to her cabin to the main road that went through the mountains.

The brunette chuckled and tucked a strand piece of hair behind her ear. "Yes, about that... I must apologize, I was not aware you were home this weekend."

Quinn's eyes narrowed further but she remained silent as she waited for the other woman to continue.

"I frequently visit the look out point passed your home and I noticed your property had very good trees for burning..."

"So, you've been trespassing on my property to collect fire wood for yourself?" Quinn asked, her voice rising sharply.

The brunette lowered her eyes to her lap, "As I said... My apologies, I was hoping that my saving you might even things out a bit."

Quinn sighed and nodded, "Yes, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to take all of this in... And my head is throbbing."

The brunette's lips split into a smile, "I will be right back."

Quinn watched the other woman disappear out into the hallway quickly. She didn't appear to be much older than Quinn and she was pretty, in a plain way. The blonde guessed that she was also tired, she _had_ rescued her after all.

The other woman returned soon enough, a large tray clutched between her hands. "You probably woke yourself up because your medication is wearing off..." She mumbled, setting the tray down carefully on the bed.

"Let me light a few more candles so that you can see to eat."

Quinn watched the brunette fuss around the room, lighting a few more candles and setting them on the dresser and desk to brighten the room. When she was finished she made her way back to the bed before moving the tray closer to the blonde.

"Eat first and then I will give you your shot."

Quinn nodded and placed the tray onto her lap, "Thank you, er..."

"Rachel." The brunette said with a warm smile, Quinn returned the gesture.

"Thank you, Rachel." The blonde said, blowing on the soup in her spoon. "I'm Quinn F-"

"Fabray. Yes, I know who you are."

Quinn chuckled, "So you've read my books, I take it?"

"Yes, all of them. I am a huge fan of your work." Rachel said, ducking her head as a blush darkened her cheeks.

"I'm glad to hear that, thank you." The blonde said sincerely, Rachel's teeth worried her lip.

"Were you up here to write? I remember you saying in one of your author's notes that you go to your cabin to work."

"Yes, I was typing up my newest novel."

"New?" The brunette asked, straightening up quickly at the response.

"Yes, I've decided to wrap up my Misery series and move on to a new subject. A fresh start." The blonde said, another brunette flashed in her mind at the double meaning those words held. She glanced around, the rest of her food momentarily forgotten. "Did you happen to get anything else from my car?"

Rachel was on her feet in seconds, "Yes, I retrieved your suit case and two more bags. Give me a moment."

Quinn nodded and finished her soup while the brunette fetched her things.

"Here we go." Rachel panted, struggling a little to set the two bags she was carrying down gently.

"Thank you." Quinn said sincerely, "The final draft is in that brown portfolio, if you'd like to read it?"

"Really?" Rachel asked, her eyes widening excitedly.

"Of course. I owe you my life, it's the least I can do."

The brunette squealed excitedly, bouncing on her feet. "I cannot wait! I will start it first thing tomorrow!"

Quinn smiled at the woman's reaction, glad that it was her work that was the reason for her happiness. Rachel cleared her throat and calmed considerably. "Sorry, I have often been called your biggest fan... A title I accept with pride. Are you all finished eating?" She asked, blushing as she approached the bed.

"Yes." Quinn said, folding her napkin and placing it back on the tray. "Thank you, it was delicious."

"You are welcome. Now, time for your shot... You will get one tomorrow afternoon as well and then I would like to wean you onto pills."

Quinn chewed on her lip and watched as Rachel moved the tray aside. She pulled a capped syringe from the pocket of her cardigan and removed the cap quickly. "Do not worry, I am a trained nurse. You are in good hands." She said, flashing Quinn a reassuring smile.

Quinn chuckled nervously before licking her lips, "How bad am I?" She asked in a quiet voice.

Rachel glanced up as she capped the syringe when she was done. "Your legs are broken and your right shoulder was dislocated."

The blonde gulped down the bile threatening to bubble up her throat, "Why aren't I in the hospital?" She asked, lifting her good arm to feel for any wounds on her face.

Her lips were chapped but didn't appear to be split. Several places along jaw and temple felt tender, she guessed it was from bruising. Quinn gave a small sigh of relief when she felt only one laceration on her face. It was small and just on the edge of her hairline. By the feel of it, Rachel had already stitched it up to heal.

She frowned when she looked back to the brunette, her previously gentle features blank.

"The blizzard was too bad, I barely got you back _here_ by myself." She said, straightening up. "Your car was nearly hidden from view by the time I got the door open. My darn crowbar kept slipping." She mumbled, jumping up quickly and taking the tray with her.

Quinn's frowned deepened when the brunette finally left the room, unsure as to what she had said to upset the other woman so much.

 

* * *

 

"Morning Quinn!"

The blonde groaned, wincing as the brunette threw open the curtains she must have closed during the night.

"How did you sleep?" She asked, approaching the bed.

"Alright." Quinn replied, sucking in a harsh breath as she tried to sit up more fully than the pillows behind her allowed.

"Oh no, try not to move too much..." Rachel cooed, moving closer. "Your legs just scream grand opera when you move, don't they?" She asked, pulling out a fresh syringe to give Quinn her shot.

Quinn averted her eyes and tried to ignore the slight pinch of the needle. "Will I be able to walk?" She asked, her eyes burning at the possibility of the answer being no.

"Oh yes, of course you will be able to walk! Your arm should heal up nicely too." She said, smiling when the blonde finally looked back toward her. "Your shoulder was a little difficult but I managed to pop it back into place. What I am most proud of, though... Is the work I did on your legs-" She said, smiling wider as she pulled the covers back to expose Quinn's lower body.

The blonde slammed her eyes shut and turned her head away, her jaw flexing. She had only caught a quick glimpse but the sight had been enough to make her stomach twist painfully.

Her pale flesh was littered with bruising and swelling.

"Considering what I had to work with," Rachel continued, pulling the covers back until even her feet were uncovered. "I do not know a doctor who could have done better."

Quinn's mangled legs were set with make-shift splints; they appeared to be a combination of spoons, the detachable bottoms of crutches and ace bandages.

The blonde gulped, knowing it would bother her more not seeing the full extent of her injuries. She slowly cracked her eyes back open, noting how swollen her feet were and the two blood stained gauze strips on her shins.

"It is not nearly as bad as it looks, Quinn. You have a compound fracture of the tibia in both legs and your fibula in the right is fractured, too. I could hear your bones moving, so it would be best if your legs remained immobile." Rachel said, moving to cover the blonde's legs back up. "And as soon as the roads are open, I will get you to a hospital."

"Thank you..." Quinn croaked weakly, the brunette shook her head gently.

"There is no need to thank me. For now all you need to do is relax and recover. I consider it an honor to provide you with the care you need for the time being." She said, smiling as she smoothed down the quilt. "Rest now, I am going to make you some breakfast. I'll be back in a bit."

 

* * *

 

"Hello, I need to speak to the Silver Creek Chief of Police or Sheriff."

Santana tucked the phone in between her shoulder and ear as she leaned back in her chair. "You're speaking to her, sir. What can I help you with?" She asked, kicking her booted feet up onto her desk.

"Ah, good. Hello, ma'am. My name is Finn Hudson..."

Santana's feet immediately went back down to the floor, her heart kick-starting in her chest. Quinn had texted late Sunday that she was leaving early and had not contacted her since.

"Uhm, hello? Are you still there, ma'am?" She heard Finn ask, Santana cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair.

"Yes, I am. Could you repeat that for me, Mr. Hudson?"

"Uh. Yes, I can. I'm worried that my wife, Quinn might not have been able to leave town. When I talked to her last, she mentioned that a storm was coming through and that she wanted to leave before it hit... I haven't heard anything from her since."

Santana's heart leapt into her throat, a feeling of dread consuming her.

"And what is her full name again, sir?" She asked, trying to play dumb and hope that her voice didn't convey her true emotions.

"Quinn Hudson, although she does also go by Fabray."

"Quinn Fabray, as in the _author_ , Quinn Fabray?"

"That's the one." Finn confirmed and Santana could swear she heard him smiling. The idiot didn't even have the common sense to actually be worried by his wife's absence.

"You should have said that to begin with." Santana said, not bothering to hide the edge to her voice. "She's got a lot of fans around here. Everyone _loves_ those Misery books."

"Uh, yes. I'm sure they do, I've heard she's a very talented writer."

"You haven't read them, Mr. Hudson?" She asked, feigning shock.

"No, I've never been one for reading..."

Santana rolled her eyes, _'Of course not, you probably don't even realize they're about the two of you.'_

"Uhm, anyway... As I'm sure you're aware, she's been coming to her cabin in Silver Creek for years to finish her books-"

"Yes, I am aware. She's been up here for the last four weeks, right?"

"Yes ma'am, that's correct."

"And since you said the last time you talked to her that she was leaving... I'm guessing you're worried something has happened to her?"

He chuckled nervously, "Yes, I think it could be a possibility. I'm also worried she may have said she was leaving and never did... We sort of had a fight last time we talked." He mumbled and Santana had to fight back the urge to laugh.

"So you think it's also a possibility she's stranded up there now... Maybe unable to use her phone?" She filled in, hoping to ease her own mind in the process.

"Yes ma'am." He confirmed, "If you could check into it for me?"

"Can do, Mr. Hudson. It would appear Mrs. Fabray has your number on file as a back up, in case of emergency..." She repeated the recorded number on file to him to ensure it was current. In reality, she had no intention of calling him. Quinn could do that herself, after Santana made sure she was safe.

"Yes, that is my cell number." Finn confirmed, "I'm calling from my office so... If you can't reach me on my cell, try this number too. Thank you again, ma'am. Goodbye."

She bid him a quick farewell, jotting down his work number from the caller I.D.

"What's up, Sheriff? You look pale." A blonde man asked as he entered the room.

"Just got a call about Quinn that has me a little rattled... Her _husband_ says she isn't home yet."

The man chuckled and took a seat at his own desk. "Maybe she finally decided to wise up and leave him."

Santana barked out a sarcastic laugh, "Very funny, _Samuel_. She hasn't contacted _either_ of us." She said, her voice much more serious and quiet.

"Oh." Sam said lamely, his grin immediately disappearing. "You don't think...?"

"I don't know." She said, chewing at her thumbnail. "I'm going to go check her cabin, if I can even get up there..."

"Want me to come along? Things have been extra slow, given they're still clearing out the snow. Everyone's just staying at home."

"Yeah, I could use some back up. Blaine should be in soon anyway, I'll just text him to let him know we headed out."

Sam nodded and finished his coffee before moving to get his jacket. "I'm going to go warm up the car, Sheriff."

Santana nodded as she finished typing out her text to Blaine, "Okay. I'll be out in a second. Thanks, Sam."

 

* * *

 

"I hope you are okay with vegan... I had to cook it over a fire but I think I made it work." Rachel said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Quinn yawned, her eyes blinking open slowly. "I'm sure it will be delicious... I'm starved."

The brunette smiled and adjusted the blankets before placing the tray on Quinn's lap. "How are you feeling?"

The blonde sighed contentedly and swallowed her first bite.

"I'm still feeling good, how long was I out?"

"About two hours, your shot knocked you right out!" Rachel said with a small chuckle, "I did nott have the heart to wake you."

Quinn nodded and continued to eat silently for the next few minutes. When she finished, she folded her napkin and placed it back on the tray.

"It was a miracle that you found me." She said suddenly, smiling weakly as Rachel removed the tray from her lap.

"Well, to be honest..." The brunette started, glancing down at the floor. "While I enjoy going to the look out point for the view... I originally discovered it because I went up that way after hearing about your cabin." She paused and raised her eyes sheepishly to meet the blonde's.

"I hoped that maybe I would catch you up there and would have the opportunity to meet you."

Quinn was watching her silently, a small frown playing at her lips as she absorbed the information.

"I apologize if this makes you feel uncomfortable, Quinn. But to me, you are the greatest author in the world. I cannot help but want to talk to you and see- No, to _know_ the woman behind your genius work."

Quinn's lips twitched up into a smile but she remained silent as Rachel continued.

"The day I found you... I saw you preparing to leave. I did not know why the greatest literary genius wanted to drive in a _blizzard_. By the time I found you, you had already gone over the cliff..."

Quinn chuckled weakly and averted her eyes. "I honestly didn't realize it would get so bad that quickly. The storm wasn't even supposed to start until the next day."

Rachel smiled broadly then and Quinn felt as though she had seen that smile some where before. She didn't have long to think about where she recognized it from because the brunette was speaking again.

"Well, it is a good thing I was crazy enough to drive in it too because now you are alive and can write more books! I have read all of your work, all eight of the Misery novels. I love them."

"Yes, I am very grateful. Thank you again, Rachel." The blonde lowered her eyes, her teeth worrying her lip. "Uhm, I was wondering... Did you happen to find my phone?"

Rachel shook her head and paused by the door, "I did not. I would offer to let you use my land-line but I am afraid that it is down. The snow must have damaged something. I am sure that they will have it all sorted out shortly after the roads are cleared."

"Oh, I see." Quinn replied, her disappointment clear in her voice. Rachel ignored it and smiled fondly toward the blonde.

"I have not had a chance to start reading but I think I will. I cannot wait to read your newest masterpiece, Quinn."

 

* * *

 

"Shit!" Santana swore, bringing her hand down heavily against her desk. "She isn't answering... It keeps going straight to her damn answering machine!"

Sam frowned and played with the edge of an open manilla folder that was laid out on his desk. He kept his eyes trained on his computer while Santana hit redial to try again. The snow was slowly melting but not fast enough, even with their snow tires the drive would be slow going.

He chewed absently on the inside of his cheek as he listened to his superior let out a restrained whimper nearby.

 

* * *

 

Quinn sputtered slightly when Rachel shoved the spoon too far into her mouth.

"Sorry." The brunette muttered quickly, wiping the blonde's chin with a small frown.

Quinn mumbled out a quick 'its okay', a little unnerved by the other woman's sour mood.

"I am only forty pages in." Rachel said in a quiet voice and Quinn nodded, hoping she would continue.

"And, what do you think?" She asked finally, pressing for the brunette to speak freely.

"Who am I to criticize someone like you?" Rachel asked meekly, raising her eyes to meet Quinn's.

The blonde merely stared at her and waited silently for her to continue.

Rachel sighed deeply, "While it is brilliantly written... The problem is... The problem is the swearing, Quinn. There, I said it."

"The profanity bothers you." The blonde said, a small frown tugging at her lips as she gave a knowing nod.

"It has no nobility!"

"It's about slum kids... My best friend was a slum kid, everyone talks like that."

Rachel scoffed, her cheeks and her neck flushed slightly. "They most certainly do not! What do you think I say when I go into town and place an order? Well Arthur, give me a pound of that effing-" She stopped abruptly when soup sloshed over the edge of the bowl due to the erratic hand movements she had been using to emphasize her point.

The brunette jumped to her feet, her dark eyes narrowing. "Now look at what you made me do!" She cried, stomping her feet and shaking visibly.

Rachel noticed the blonde's expression and ran a hand through her long hair. "I-I'm sorry, Quinn. I get carried away sometimes... Let me get this cleaned up..." She mumbled before rushing out of the room to fetch some paper towels.

Quinn just stared at her blankly, too shocked by the sudden outburst to do anything else.

 

* * *

 

Santana groaned, slamming her phone down on her desk and reaching for her jacket. "Come on Sam, we're going."

The blonde man nodded and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair.

They had been waiting for deputy Anderson to arrive but Santana could only be sent to Quinn's voicemail so many times.

"It still isn't ringing." She muttered as she locked the door to the building quickly.

Sam frowned, snow crunching loudly beneath his boots as he followed her to the truck. "Want me to drive?" He asked, watching as she continued to tinker with her phone.

"Yeah. Dammit, Anderson! He better get his ass down here soon... I hate that I had to lock up but..." She let the words trail off, not wanting to voice the full extent of her fears.

"Hey, I know. It's been slow and anyone who needs help around here has our cell numbers too. We've got this, Sheriff."

Santana nodded slowly from the passenger seat as he started the truck. "Maybe I should clip this badge onto you for the time being..." She mumbled, her eyes turned down toward the glossy medal badge.

Sam ignored the comment and the two sat in silence for several minutes before he finally chose to speak.

"You really think she's up here, ma'am? You said they had an argument... Right? Maybe she's just punishing him... I know that my wife does that to me sometimes, doesn't answer her phone just to make me see what I am missing."

"She would answer for _me_ , Sam. I told you that. This isn't like her." Santana snapped, her nerves were getting worse the closer they got to Quinn's road.

Luckily for them, the after noon sun had helped to soften the ice and snow. Their truck was made to withstand inclimate weather anyway and faired much better than Quinn's sedan had.

Santana's stomach dropped and her throat tightened when the mangled guard rail came into view. She gripped the handle on the door of the truck tightly in one hand and the other moved up to cover her mouth.

"Shit." Sam muttered, slowing the truck to a stop. The vehicle had barely been put into park when Santana had her door open and was rushing toward the side of the road.

She peered over the edge, falling to her knees before crawling closer to the side of the cliff.

All she could see was thick mounds of snow until the treeline that led into the forest and her heart rate pounded louder in her ears.

"Should I call it in?" Sam asked from the truck, his hand hovering over the radio.

She trembled and shook her head. "We should go to her cabin first, I can't see a vehicle. All I see is snow and trees."

"Yeah, it could have been a boulder or something... That _is_ why we have those signs up." He said, trying to comfort her.

Santana nodded and rose slowly, brushing off her jeans as she did. "Yeah, right..."

 

* * *

 

"Quinn! Guess what I picked up!" Rachel cried excitedly as she made her way into the small bedroom. "Misery's child! Oh, Quinn. I am so excited!"

The blonde blinked slowly into consciousness, her smile faltering when she noticed the book in Rachel's hands.

"Does this mean that the roads are open?" She asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from the other woman.

Rachel turned away, moving from the view of the doorway as she removed her jacket. "Uhm, yes. They were. But it was a rough ride, Quinn. And only the main road going to town was open."

"What about the phones, are they working?" The blonde asked, watching the other woman nod as she walked back into the room.

"Well, mine is still out but the one in town was working just fine." She took a seat on the edge of the bed, "I called the hospital... Talked to the head Orthopedic surgeon, I told him who you were and what happened."

"And?"

"As long as there's no infection, you are not in any danger. And they will send an ambulance as soon as the roads are clear."

"Oh, fantastic! Thank you, so much. And the other calls?" Quinn asked, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Rachel remained quiet for a moment, playing with the cover of the book in her lap. "There was a line, I'm sorry, Quinn. I only had time for one call."

The blonde frowned but nodded. "My husband is probably out of his mind..." She said, although she was thinking more of Santana when she said it. "I was supposed to go to some business gala of his today." She mumbled the words quietly, knowing Rachel probably wouldn't hear them anyway. The brunette was already excitedly going on about her new book and how she couldn't wait to read it.

Rachel jumped up quickly and moved to the door. "I will head back into town tomorrow and try again. I will wait all day if I have to." She smiled fondly at the blonde, "Oh Quinn, what a poet you are."

Quinn smiled weakly in response but as soon as the other woman was out of sight she heaved an exasperated sigh.

 

* * *

 

Santana's chest was tight as she stepped down onto the undisturbed snow. The sound of it beneath her feet was loud, too loud.

She unclipped her caribiner from her belt loop and fished through her collection of keys. When she finally found the spare that Quinn had given her she made quick work of the lock.

"Quinn?" Santana asked loudly as she pushed the door open. The brunette rushed inside, quickly making her way through the quiet cabin. Her breath caught in her throat, the blonde wasn't there. The cabin was empty, she had taken her things with her and was no where to be found.

"Fuck!" Santana gasped, once again falling to her knees when she made it to the blonde's bedroom.

Sam lingered in the hallway, his heart sinking at the pain in his friend's voice.

 

* * *

 

"Dinner time, Quinn!" Rachel said, pushing open the door with her foot. "I am already on page seventy five!"

"I guess that means that it's okay?" Quinn asked, grabbing the fork to dig in.

"No, it is more than okay. I do not know the proper word to use to accurately describe the gift you have... Would splendid suffice?"

"I think I can live with that." Quinn said, smiling around her second bite.

"No-No... It is not splendid, it is _perfect_. A perfect, perfect thing." Rachel said, her smile widening.

The brunette sat in silence then, patiently waiting for the blonde to finish eating.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, fishing a small packet out of her pocket.

"A little sore but otherwise alright."

"Okay, I want you to try these tonight. If you are sore tomorrow morning we can give you another shot but I would prefer not to."

Quinn nodded and reached for her glass before excepting the pills from the brunette.

"Sleep well, Quinn. I will see you in the morning." Rachel said, blowing out the candles before leaving the room.

"You too, Rachel."

 

* * *

 

Quinn sighed, her eyes searching the room. She was bored, Rachel had not been in yet that morning. She couldn't even look out the window as the curtains were still drawn from the night before.

She had considered calling for the brunette but decided against it, guessing that the other woman was busy or still sleeping.

Her eyes flicked toward the door as it rocked slightly in its hinges, her brows furrowed when it did it a second time.

"Hello? Rachel?" She asked, fighting the urge to sit up.

Her brow furrowed deeper when the door was pushed open suddenly by what appeared to be a brown pig.

Quinn's upper lip curled slightly and her nose crinkled as the creature quickly rushed toward her. She frowned deeply when the edge of the bed tipped down as the sow put her front legs up on the comforter.

The blonde's attention was so intensely focused on the animals proximity that she didn't even hear Rachel's approaching footsteps.

"I thought it was time that you two meet! Quinn, this is my favorite creature in the whole world. My sow, Misery!"

"Misery?"

"Yes, I told you... I am your biggest fan." Rachel said with a wink as she approached the bed. She knelt down and began to rub the pig under its chin so that it would leave Quinn alone.

The blonde relaxed slightly, relieved that the animal was no longer pressed up against her injured arm.

"I'm starting to believe you." She mumbled, trying weakly to hide her annoyance.

"It was so boring here on the farm after my Great Aunt passed, I needed a friend. I saw her fore sale in town and I just could not let them slaughter her."

"She's beautiful, a very fine... Pig." Quinn said, nodding toward the sow who was still staring at her blankly.

Rachel nodded in agreement and stood suddenly. The brunette twirled, light on her feet as she made her way back to the door. "I am on page three hundred now, Quinn. And it is better than perfect. It is divine." She said, almost dreamily. "Come Misery!"

The sow turned when called and trotted over toward its owner, oinking happily. Rachel beamed down at the animal, wrinkling her nose cutely before mimicking its noises.

Quinn smiled at the two of them uncomfortably and sunk back into her pillows.

 

* * *

 

"Hello, Mr Hudson? Uh, yes. I wanted to let you know that we did go to your wife's cabin and she did not appear to be home. The snow around the residence was undisturbed, there was no car outside and the cabin appeared to be completely dark. We tried knocking but no one answered."

Santana set her jaw when she heard the man suck in a deep, unsteady breath.

"W-what does that mean, ma'am?" He asked, his voice pleading.

"I'm not sure yet, sir. We're still canvassing the area-"

"Canvassing? Don't they do that when they're looking for a body?" He asked, his voice louder now as he began to panic.

"Sir, please calm down. It just means that we are looking for any signs of a crash or anything else that might suggest your wife was there. Not necessarily a body." She corrected in an attempt to calm him.

He sighed, "Okay, thank you, ma'am. Please keep me updated."

"Will do, sir. Goodbye." She said, hanging up the phone before pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Is it sinking in for him yet?" Sam asked gently, looking over from his desk.

Santana nodded, Finn's reaction had only worsened her mood.

"Why don't you head home and get some rest? Sam and I can handle things around here." Blaine said, frowning at the distraught expression on the woman's face.

"Yeah, okay..." She mumbled, glancing toward her watch. "My phone will be on. Call me if you need anything."

The deputies smiled and waved her off, Sam speaking for the both of them. "We'll be fine, Mama Bear. You call _us_ if you need anything."

She gave a weak smile and wave before grabbing her jacket and heading out into the cold.

 

* * *

 

Rachel stood silently by the window, her eyes watching as the sky darkened outside. "When my Aunt passed, it was not an easy time. For a while, I thought I might go crazy."

Quinn gave a small sympathetic smile, "I know how that can be."

"I do not know about you... But what I did to get through it was dove into work. Days, nights... Night shifts can be lonely at a hospital. I did a lot of reading, that is when I first discovered Misery. She made me so happy, she made me forget all of my problems. Though, I suppose you had a little something to do with that too."

Quinn gave a small, nervous laugh. "Yes, I suppose so."

"I just kept reading them, over and over. I only have two chapters to go on this one and I know that when I finish... I will just turn right back to the first page and start it all over again."

"I'm uh..."

"Done?" Rachel asked, turning away from the window.

Quinn nodded shyly, fixing her borrowed boxer shorts and bringing the container she had used as a substitute restroom out from under the covers.

She had difficulty with it the first few times but she had gotten the hang of it by now. She was grateful for that fact, since Rachel had to get her up to switch the sheets after the first attempt. The brunette was slight but much stronger than she appeared to be.

"It has been a while since I have lived with anyone, so I apologize if I am awkward at times... I've not dated in years, either. How is it, being married?" She asked, taking the container from the blonde.

"It's alright, it has it's ups and downs." Quinn said, smoothing out the section of sheet that covered her torso.

"Only alright?" Rachel asked, quirking a brow.

"My husband is a very busy man... He took over my father's business when he retired."

"Ah, I see." Rachel said, glancing down toward the container. Quinn felt a blush creep up her neck and cheeks and she shifted uncomfortably.

"What is he like?"

"Finn is... He's sweet and gentle but not a very attentive listener."

"I am sure he is, he must be quite the catch to be married to a beautiful woman like you." The brunette said with a wide toothy and still very familiar smile.

The fuzziness Quinn had been feeling from the shots had worn away the later the day got. The pills kept her pain away without knocking her out, although they still made her quite drowsy.

"What did you say your last name was?" The blonde asked suddenly, the question immediately removing Rachel's smile.

"Wilkes." The brunette said quickly before holding up the container. The translucent-yellow liquid sloshing around loudly in the process. "I had better take care of this. I will be back to check on you in a while." She said before hastily exiting the room.

The blonde stared at the now closed door, more than a little confused. And still curious as to why the woman's smile and eyes seemed so familiar to her.

 

* * *

 

Quinn's eyes fluttered behind closed lids, the curtains had yet to be drawn and moon light was streaming in brightly through the unobstructed window.

The sleeping blonde didn't hear the approaching footsteps or the creak of the door as it was opened. She did however, notice the door slam back shut.

Quinn's eyes shot open and she lifted her head up off of her pillow at the sound.

Rachel stood in front of the door, her thin frame rigid.

"Y-You... How could you?! She can't be dead, Misery Chastain _cannot_ be dead!"

"Rachel... In 1871 it was very common for women to die during child birth." Quinn said softly, now very much awake. "But her spirit is still very much alive."

"I don't want her _spirit_!" Rachel cried, shoving the foot of the small bed.

Quinn threw her head back and sunk deeper into her pillow. She let out a shrill scream when Rachel shook the bed again, the frame digging into her swollen feet. Pain shot up her legs, causing inhuman screams and whimpers to escape the blonde's throat.

"No, I want her! And you _murdered_ her!"

"N-no..." Quinn managed weakly, her spine still arched from the searing pain. "I didn't."

"Who did then?" Rachel cried back, her knuckles white as she gripped the metal bed frame.

"No one." The blonde gasped, lowering her chin so that her frightened eyes met the brunette's. "She just slipped away."

Rachel released the metal frame suddenly, making the bed ridden woman flinch.

"Slipped away? She didn't just _slip away_ , you did it! You killed her!"

Quinn gulped as the woman turned away, silently praying that she would leave the room. But to her horror, the brunette instead was bending down to grab a small piece of wooden furniture.

The blonde's body went rigid when the potted plant that had been sitting on the decorative table fell to the floor with a loud crash.

Rachel's eyes were wild when she turned back to the bed angrily brandishing the piece of furniture. The brunette was rapidly crying out _'you did it'_ in a shrill voice that sent chills down Quinn's back.

The blonde trembled and lifted her good arm protectively over her head when the enraged woman approached her bedside.

"You killed my Misery!" Rachel cried, lifting the table over her head.

"Rachel, please don't-" Quinn begged weakly, knowing that there was nothing she could do to keep the other woman from striking her in her weakened state.

The blonde clamped her eyes shut and braced herself for an impact when she saw Rachel's body jerk into motion.

There was a loud crunch above her, followed by the dull thud of a piece of wood hitting her pillow. The rest of them clattered to the floor loudly, coming no where near the blonde.

Quinn cracked her eyes open slowly to see Rachel still standing over her, breathing heavily.

The anger that had contorted her pretty features was mostly gone.

"I thought you were a decent person, Quinn. But you're not, you're just another _liar_... Hiding behind talent and a pretty face. I don't think that it's a good idea for me to be around you for a while." The brunette panted out between calming breaths before she turned to leave.

Quinn watched the woman's retreating figure, her tensed body relaxing slowly with each step the other woman made. She kept her arm up over her head, just in case the brunette decided to throw something.

Rachel opened the door, pausing in the threshold. "And don't even think about anyone coming for you. Not the doctors, not the cops, not your husband-"

Quinn lowered her arm, her eyes trained on the dark ones watching her from the shadows of the hallway.

"I never called them, _any_ of them. No one knows that you're here." Rachel paused for a moment, twisting the doorknob in her fist. "And you'd better hope nothing happens to me..." She whispered, her tone sending another chill down the blonde's spine.

"Because if I die, _you_ die." The brunette finished before tuning on her heel and closing the door with a loud click.

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
_Don't be afraid!!_   
_Sweet, little stray!!_

_Don't be afraid..._

_I see you_   
_In your Sunday best_   
_I see you_   
_Feathering your nest..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be the most similar to the original Misery plot, the next chapter which may very well be the last... Will deviate again and the ending will be a blend of the book and movie versions. I'm also debating drawing in more themes from the other two movies I've mentioned... Although I've admittedly never seen the Roommate... Only trailers. Anyway, hope you like this chapter. :)

  
_And oh, how I liked you_   
_You were my very own_   


_Oh, how I liked you!_   
_So, I followed you home...  
_

* * *

_  
_

Quinn swallowed hard, staring at the door as she listened to Rachel's footsteps grow fainter as she walked down the hallway.

The blonde jumped a few moments later when a door slammed somewhere in the house. Quinn licked her lips, her ears straining for anymore sound.

Her eyes flicked toward the window when she heard the sound of an engine bursting to life outside. Quinn watched Rachel's truck head for the road, relief seeping into her at the sight.

The blonde released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when the truck finally disappeared from view. She reached up behind her, grabbing the sliver of destroyed furniture before tossing it to the floor.

Her muscles were alive and humming from the adrenaline coursing through her body. Quinn glanced toward the bedroom door, wetting her lips with her tongue.

Rachel was unstable, absolutely, one hundred percent insane. And currently, she was gone. Quinn flexed her hand nervously over the comforter, there was no way she could let this opportunity go to waste.

Who knew when the brunette would be back?

The blonde grit her teeth and threw back the covers as best she could. She sucked in a deep breath and sat up quickly before leaning to her right. The floor loomed closer and Quinn barely snapped her arm out in time to catch herself.

She grunted as her palm slapped loudly on the floor, the force of the impact reverberating through her body. She ignored the pain, grinding her teeth together as she tried to use her good arm and upper body to pull herself out of the bed.

Quinn hissed as she inched forward and then cried out when her lower body came crashing to the floor minutes later.

She laid still for a while, tears tracking hotly down her cheeks as her broken legs screamed out for her.

Her body was shaking, flushed and slick with sweat but she knew that she had to force herself to move.

Quinn spun around on the wooden floor as best she could before using her good arm to drag her body along her stomach toward the door.

It had taken her far too long to drag her broken body across the short distance but she was finally there.

The blonde smiled weakly as she twisted her body and reached up her clammy hand for the doorknob.

Her elation was short lived, her slick hand twisted over the doorknob uselessly.

It was locked.

Quinn's fingers slipped weakly off of the cool surface and back to the floor as a sob escaped the blonde's lips.

 

* * *

 

"You've got to be kidding me! This is even in our shitty little paper?" Santana asked, eying the newspaper on her desk with disgust.

"It's all over the news, she _is_ a celebrity." Blaine said, casting the Sheriff a sympathetic look.

"Yeah and on the bright side... We already got a call back from the Chief of Police. You're to meet him at noon for your chopper ride."

"Already? They never respond _that_ quickly..." Santana muttered, her eyes sweeping the short article that was entitled: _**Where is Quinn Fabray?**_

"Perks of a high profile case." Sam said before sipping his coffee.

"Yeah, thank God for small favors..." The brunette muttered, although she was smiling at the opportunity to use better resources to search for Quinn.

"Did you two find anything else?" She asked, looking between the two men expectantly.

"I did. Apparently the last time Quinn charged her credit card was at the store in town. She bought some food, wine and-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know what she bought, I was there. And she hasn't used it since?"

"No." Blaine said, frowning slightly once he realized that his lead wasn't really anything but bad news.

 

* * *

 

"You poor, dear thing. What are you doing on the floor?"

Quinn's eyes fluttered open weakly and she stared expressionlessly at Rachel. The brunette was standing over her, chin tilted down so that their eyes were locked.

"It is all my fault." The woman said, eying the way Quinn was laying parallel to the bed. "If I had a proper hospital bed this would have never happened." Rachel said softly, kneeling down to peel the covers away from Quinn's stiff body.

The blonde set her jaw and fought down the urge to flinch as Rachel's hands slid in between her back and the floor. "Here, let me help you."

"Oww..." Quinn hissed, her body protesting painfully as the brunette helped her to sit up.

"I know this hurts..." Rachel said, scooping Quinn up by her arm pits and lifting her quickly but carefully toward the bed. "It will only take a few seconds."

Quinn whimpered and used her good arm to help as much as possible. Her legs were filled with a searing flash of pain as they drug across the floor and edge of the bed.

She held her breath, going red in the face as Rachel lifted both of her legs at once. The brunette's arms kept them as straight as possible but the pain shot through them regardless.

"Oh, please... Wait, wait!"

"You are such a cry baby." The other woman chided, pulling the protesting blonde up toward the pillows and headboard.

Quinn released a breath, panting weakly as Rachel helped straighten her body out before placing the covers back on the bed.

"There you go, comfy?" The brunette asked, smiling charmingly.

"Perfect." Quinn muttered sarcastically, still trying to calm her breathing.

"Such a kidder!" Rachel said with a laugh, pulling the sheet and comforter back over Quinn's mangled legs. "I have a big surprise for you but first there is something you must do."

"I don't suppose I could have a little snack... While I'm waiting for the surprise?" Quinn asked, smiling halfheartedly as she watched the brunette tuck in the covers at the end of the bed.

"I will get you everything you want but you must listen first." Rachel said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Sometimes my thinking is a little muddled. I accept that. That is why I could not remember all of the things that they were asking me on the witness stand." She sighed heavily, gripping the edge of the bed now that the covers were tucked in.

"This time, though, I am thinking clearly. I asked God about you and God said that he delivered you to me so that I might show you the way."

"Show me the way?" Quinn asked, her eyes dropping automatically to the gold cross necklace that hung around the brunette's neck.

She reached for her own but then remembered that it had been missing, most likely from the accident.

"Yes." Rachel breathed, smiling fondly at her patient before turning away.

Quinn watched her leave and desperately wished that the door had not been locked the night before.

The blonde glanced back toward the door when she heard Rachel's returning footsteps.

The brunette wheeled in what appeared to be a dusty and circular BBQ grill. Once she and the grill were bedside, Rachel removed the lid.

Quinn's heart sank at the sight of her worn writing portfolio sitting beside a match box and lighter fluid on the grill plate.

She watched in silence as Rachel removed the items one by one, saving the portfolio for last. She undid the clasp and slipped out the pristine pages of the manuscript before placing it aside.

To Quinn, the white paper contrasted hideously against the black innards of the grill. She could feel bile bubbling up her throat at the scene that was unfolding before her.

Those words were her fresh start, the physical proof of her soon to be real life. She had been planning to have it published right after she left Finn, using the money that she earned to whisk Santana away on a much needed vacation.

She had envisioned herself telling the other woman just how much she loved her as they lie on a white sanded beach, or at least somewhere tropical.

The click of Rachel breaking the seal on the top of the lighter fluid brought Quinn back to reality.

The blonde's stomach clenched painfully as the liquid was poured onto the stack of white pages.

"When I mentioned a snack... _This_ was not what I had in mind."

"Quinn, you must rid the world of this filth." Rachel said, both hands extending toward the blonde. A single match was clutched in one hand and the match box to strike it on in the other.

"You want me to _burn_ my book?" Quinn asked, an incredulous smile creeping onto her lips.

"I know this may be difficult for you... But it is for the best."

Quinn licked her lips slowly, ignoring the way that Rachel's dark eyes followed the movement.

"It's really not difficult at all. My agent made dozens of copies already, every publishing house in New York is reading it right now. So if you want me to burn my book, fine. You're not really ridding the world of anything."

"Then light the match, Quinn." Rachel said, bringing her hands back up for the blonde.

Quinn licked her bottom lip nervously again but tried to keep her stoic mask in place.

Rachel sighed, "Quinn, I know that this is the only copy. When you were twenty two and wrote your first book, you did not make a copy. You did not bother to do so because you were not expecting to be taken seriously. But you were and ever since, you have written only one copy, in the same location. You are superstitious, you said so yourself in one of your Author's notes."

"Of course I did." The blonde muttered under her breath, cursing inwardly. She sucked in a deep breath before attempting a different tactic. "I won't have it published. No one has to read it, I'll just keep it for myself. No one but us will even know that it exists." She said with a smile, although the expression quickly faltered when the brunette shook her head.

"As long as it does exist... Your mind will never be free." Rachel said, laying the box of matches on the blonde's chest.

Quinn released a trembling breath, her eyes flicking between Rachel's and the manuscript.

"I think you should light the match, Quinn." She whispered, placing the match in the blonde's good hand. "Can't you see it is what God wants?"

Quinn's eyes widened slightly as the brunette stepped back, lifting her arms and squirting the bed with lighter fluid.

She did it again as she stepped toward the bottom of the bed. "You are so brilliant, I think you would certainly be able to see that..." She was pouring the liquid freely now, in a line across the comforter.

"We are put on this Earth to help people, Quinn. Like I am trying to help you." Rachel was heading back toward her spot next to the grill, squirting the bed occasionally as she did.

"Please. Help me, help you." She said, in a voice far too gentle for the way she was acting. Quinn could only stare, her mind racing as her fingers trembled against the slim piece of wood in between her fingers.

She slowly grabbed the match box in her right hand, striking the match with her left. Her eyes lingered on the small flame that danced before them and she contemplated how long it would take for the room to become engulfed in flame.

The blonde shook her head, even if she couldn't give Santana the written version of 'their' story... She could fight, no _survive_ , to see it play out in reality.

"You are doing the right thing."

She ignored Rachel and cast one last look toward the manuscript before tossing the match. It hadn't even made contact when the fumes from the accelerant caught, the flame made a _woosh_ as it burst into existence.

"Oh my!" Rachel exclaimed, taking a step back.

Quinn watched as the flames licked hungrily at her work, a large part of her wishing that it was Rachel burning instead.

"Goodness gracious, oh my!" Rachel said, pulling the grill away from the bed and toward the bay window by its handle.

Tendrils of burning paper had begun to flutter away from the hungry flames. Some of them catching and burning through the curtains.

Rachel rushed from the room to grab a bucket of water that she had placed in the hallway. The fire was out in seconds, hissing quietly until all that remained was a smoldering pile of burnt and soggy mush.

"Well, this is quite the mess..." Rachel mumbled, wheeling the still smoking grill toward the hallway. The brunette paused in the doorway, her head cocked to the side as the sound of a loud engine reached her ears.

Quinn sat up slightly, hoping to see Santana's truck, _anyone's_ truck come into view.

 

* * *

 

"That's the Stephen's property." Santana said, pointing to a large home. "And that, is the Wilke's farm straight ahead." She said, the Police Chief nodded from the Pilot's seat.

"There's a truck... But no sign of Mrs. Fabray's sedan. Most of the other families up here only come up seasonal, go back home for the winter. All of the ones that live here year round pretty much stick to living in town." She frowned and lowered her binoculars, "There's nothing else out this way but before we circle back there is one other place I'd like to see in an aerial view." She said, thinking back to the mangled guardrail.

 

* * *

 

Quinn frowned, her heart racing as she watched the helicopter disappear from view.

"I believe the winters are getting shorter and shorter. People are still blaming it on the O-Zone Layer, what do you think?" Rachel asked, turning away from the window.

"I don't know." Quinn replied quickly, her voice thick with emotion.

Rachel shrugged and made her way over to the bed so that she could slip two pills into Quinn's hand. "Here are you pills." She said, taking the matches and grill with her when she left the room.

Quinn stared blankly at the charred remains of her manuscript until it was out of view.

Her fingers twitched, sliding against the pills in the process. The blonde blinked, purposely twisting the orange tablets in her fingers as she studied them.

After a moment, she leaned over slightly so that she could stash the pills in a small hole she made in the mattress. When she was sure that they and the hole were hidden from view she smoothed down the sheet and comforter.

 

* * *

 

At dinner time, Quinn mimicked her earlier action of stashing her pills. Rachel has broken her habit of watching the blonde eat and was instead snacking in her bedroom upstairs. Quinn still moved quickly to hide them, the sound of a TV making her feel one edge. She had grown used to the quiet house and being able to hear Rachel moving about.

Now that the no power charade was up, Rachel seemed to be using as much electricity as possible.

When she was done and the sheet was pulled back into place, Quinn settled back into her pillows to finish her meal.

 

* * *

 

"I told you this would be nice, Quinn." Rachel said, pushing the blonde around the bed in a wheelchair.

"Great," Quinn started sarcastically. "I _always_ wanted to visit the other side of the room. If I knew this was going to be my surprise, I would have burned all of my books."

"Now, do not poke fun, Quinn." Rachel said, swatting playfully at the blonde's good shoulder. "This is a big day for you. Just sit tight and I will set everything up."

Quinn stared out the window listlessly for a moment before blinking, "Set what up?"

"That is the big surprise!" Rachel said, making her way back into the room with a large, dusty box. "Your new study! After all, writers do need a place to work."

"Work?" Quinn asked, watching as the brunette pulled the lid off of the box. "You mean write? What in the world do you think I would write?" She snapped, her frustration getting the best of her.

"Oh but Quinn, I do not think. I _know_. Now that you have gotten rid of that nasty manuscript, you can get back to doing what you are great at." Rachel said, smiling at the blonde before turning back to the box. "Your _greatest_ achievement, _ever_. Misery's Return."

"...Misery's Return?" Quinn asked, one eyebrow arched sharply above the other.

Rachel lifted a black typewriter out of the box and set it down gently on the desk. "I know you did not mean it when you killed her... And now, you will make it right. It will be a book in my honor, for saving your life." Rachel said, blinking back tears and clearing her throat. "Oh, Quinn. Your are going to make me the envy of the _whole_ world."

Quinn gaped at her before closing her mouth and shaking her head with a frown. "You just expect me to whip something up out of nowhere?"

Rachel smiled, "I expect nothing less than your masterpiece." She said, wheeling the blonde over to the desk.

"You do understand that this is not the ordinary way in which books are written."

"I have total confidence in your brilliance. Besides-" Rachel paused and looked up to glance out the window. "The view will inspire you. I will be right back." The brunette said, pointedly ignoring the way the other woman shook her head.

Quinn sighed and rapped her fingers against the desk, her inner rebel urging her to look toward the floor instead of the scenery outside. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed a bobby pin laying on the hard wood floor.

The blonde's eyes flicked between the bobby pin and the bedroom door. "I guess you don't get bothered by neighbors much, huh?" She asked and Rachel laughed from where ever it was she was rooting around.

"You should not concern yourself with that. You will have complete solitude so that you can concentrate on your work."

"Great." Quinn mumbled in response, tearing her eyes away from the floor as Rachel came back in with a much slimmer box.

"I got you the most expensive paper to type on and also got a great deal on this clunker due to the fact that it is missing its letter n. I told the sales clerk that n was two of the letters in my favorite Author's name." She said, patting the typewriter.

Quinn picked up the lid to the box of paper, reading the name and formulating a plot in her head. She blinked when she realized Rachel was watching her curiously and she sat the lid down on the window sill.

"I think that it's a perfect match. There are no n's in my favorite Nurse's name." Quinn said, flashing the now blushing brunette a charming smile.

"Oh you. Did I do well?" Rachel asked, beaming.

"You did great." Quinn said with a nod before looking down with a small frown. "There is just one little thing..."

Rachel's smile faltered as the blonde continued, "I can't work on this paper, it smudges. So maybe, if you go back into town... You could bring me some white, long grain paper?"

"B-but... Mine cost the most." Rachel said slowly in a disbelieving voice. "I do not see how it could smudge."

"Come here. I'll show you." Quinn said patiently, taking a single piece from the top of the stack.

She placed the paper into the typewriter and quickly typed the word 'smudge.' Rachel leaned in, bracing herself by placing her arm on the desk. She watched with a frown and rapt attention as the blonde removed the paper and rubbed her finger over the word.

"See?" Quinn asked, retracting her hand so that the brunette could get a better look at the smudged ink.

Rachel pursed her lips and waited a minute before rubbing her own finger against the other half of the word.

"Huh, it does smudge after all... That is _fascinating_." She mumbled, her eyes flicking toward the blonde when she shrugged.

"I figured you would want to know." Quinn said, her lips quirking into a small smile. "I'd like for you to be in on everything, Rachel. Not just the finished book but the whole process."

"Thank you, for thinking of me." The brunette muttered blankly, moving for the door. She turned when she reached the threshold, both brows arched high in exasperation. "Anything else I can get for you while I am in town? Any other _crucial_ requirements that need satisfying?"

Quinn shook her head and frowned slightly as Rachel continued. "Are you sure? No tape recorder...? A massage chair? Or how about a hand made pair of writing slippers?"

"Uhm, just the paper will be fine..." Quinn whispered, gripping the armrests to her wheelchair instinctively as Rachel's eyes darkened.

"Are you sure? 'Cuz if you want, I'll bring back the _whole_ store for you."

"Rachel... I don't understand." The blonde started, backing her chair away from the desk."What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?!" Rachel barked, laughing sarcastically. "I go out of my way for you to do _everything_ within my power to make you happy. I feed you, I clean you, I _dress_ you... And what thanks do I get? _Oh, you bought the wrong paper, Rachel. I can't write on this paper, Rachel._ "

Quinn sunk back into the wheelchair as the brunette moved closer but Rachel moved closer anyway. She bent over at the waist and brought her head down until they were nose to nose. Quinn gasped in pain as Rachel's fingernails dug into her thighs just above her knees.

"I'll get you your paper but you had better start showing me a little more appreciation around here, _Little Miss Perfect_."

The blonde flinched and set her jaw defiantly but said nothing as the brunette lingered in her personal space. The other woman's eyes flicked back and forth, staring angrily into her own for a few more agonizing minutes. Rachel pulled back slightly before slamming her hands palm down onto the blonde's legs. Quin cried out, hissing in pain as her bruised thighs stung from the force of the impact.

Rachel straightened up and smoothed down her dress, ignoring the whimpering from the blonde as she exited the room. The brunette slammed the door behind her and stalked down the loudly down the hallway.

By the time she recovered from the stinging ache, Rachel had left the house and was already pulling out of view in her truck.

Quinn sucked in a deep, calming breath and watched until she disappeared completely. Her eyes immediately fell to the bobby pin that lay on the floor just feet away.

The blonde gently lifted her stiff left arm from its sling and wheeled her way over to the small piece of metal.

She ignored the flash of pain from her body as she leaned over the armrest and toward the floor, her mind drifting back to a happier time.

_"Is this really something that you should be teaching me, officer?"_

_"That's Sheriff to you, blondie. Or did you forget about the promotion already?" Santana responded smartly, "Besides, we wouldn't be in this mess if_ someone _had remembered their keys. There, got it." The brunette said, retracting her hand with a smirk._

_Quinn shook her head and stood up next to the other woman. "How ever did you learn_ that _?" She asked, her eyes dancing with amusement._

_Santana shot her a more genuine smile as she slipped the credit card back into her wallet. "I didn't always live in this shitty town, you know."_

_"Oh?" Quinn asked, pushing the door open and gesturing for the brunette to go inside first. "But you look so much like the locals!"_

_Santana snorted, "Manners_ and _a sense of humor? However did I get so lucky?"_

_It was the blonde's turn to smirk and she did so with a wink. "Are you though?"_

_She turned to lock the door and gasped as she was pressed against the cool surface. "I think I am." Santana whispered against the shell of the taller woman's ear. The brunette smirked as a shiver rolled through the body pressed against her own._

_"S-Santana..." Quinn breathed, turning her head slightly to look back at the other woman._

Quinn blinked and shivered as she was brought back to the present when her fingers closed on the bobby pin.

The blonde smiled as she slipped the sliver of metal carefully between her lips before wheeling herself over to the door. It took her a minute to get herself lined up with the door so that she could get the best angle to pick the lock.

Quinn let out a small grunt as her stiff arm refused to cooperate and shook her head before she used her right hand to pluck the pin from her mouth.

She tried valiantly to keep her hands from trembling as she bent back the wavy half of the bobby pin.

She remembered Santana's patient instructions, _"Bend it about a quarter of the way down, between your thumb and forefinger... Yeah, just like that. Good job, baby."_

Quinn's tongue snuck out from between her lips as she slid the pin into the key hole before twisting it around carefully. She tilted her head toward the door and listened carefully for the telltale click.

"I did it..." She whispered, a proud smile tugging at her lips as she turned the knob. Sure enough, the crystal knob turned freely this time.

She couldn't help but think that Santana would be proud of her too as she awkwardly pulled the door open before maneuvering around it and into the hallway. Quinn glanced both ways down the new territory, settling on the right.

She hadn't realized that the front door was so close and the sight of it made her heart jump. Quinn wheeled her way over to it quickly, her elation faltering when she realized that it too was locked. She could pick the first like she had with the bedroom door but the second would be too tricky.

"You've got to be kidding me..." She mumbled, shaking her head before angling herself toward the door opposite her room.

The door swung back easily, revealing Rachel's living room. Quinn was barely over the threshold when her eyes widened at the sight of a phone.

The blonde rolled over to it quickly, her arms burning at the effort. Her fingers trembled as they wrapped around the cool plastic. She lifted the phone to her ear but frowned at the absence of a dial tone. Quinn reached out for the base of the Retro Rotary phone, her heart sinking when she realized that the device was gutted and just for show.

She fought back tears as she placed the useless hunk of plastic back down on the table that it had been sitting on.

 

* * *

 

Rachel sighed as she exited the store, paper in hand. She knew that she had been a little tough on the blonde but Quinn was stubborn. Her bullheadedness was usually not enough to make the brunette angry but she could only handle so much.

The brunette hopped into her vehicle, placing the paper onto the passenger seat before starting the engine. The drive and cold air had been good for her, they had helped her clear her mind.

She would apologize to Quinn when she got home she decided and smiled with a nod as she tugged on her seat belt.

 

* * *

 

Quinn wheeled herself slowly through Rachel's living room, her eyes scanning the various frames and knick knacks that decorated it.

The blonde was so busy looking around that she bumped into a small table with one of her foot rests. Her hand shot out, catching a small penguin figurine she had knocked over in her clumsiness.

She released a quick puff of air, right hand covering her chest as she placed the figurine back on the table.

Quinn wheeled herself forward a bit more, eyes scanning a nearby shelf. They lingered on a rather large, red book that was marked _Memory Lane._

When she glanced to the right, she pursed her lips at another shelf. It was lined with two copies of each of her books, the hard and soft copes separated by large framed black and white image of herself.

The blonde wrinkled her nose as she looked higher, to three more frames that sat behind above but behind the books. The one on the left was a dressy picture of herself from one of Finn's galas. She remembered her cheeks aching from the sickeningly sweet smile that she had been forced to wear that night.

The picture on the right was a framed version of the image that graced the back of every one of her Misery novels. She was wearing a genuine smile and was seated comfortably on the porch of her cabin. Santana had snapped that picture, she remembered wistfully.

The middle image was the one that worried her the most, the sight of it sending a shiver down her spine.

It was a picture from her wedding, most likely snagged from a magazine.

She shook her head quickly and wheeled herself away from the sight and back into the hallway.

Quinn glanced back toward her room before trying the door on her right. Unable to maneuver herself properly in the more narrow section of the hallway due to a small table. The blonde was forced to ram the door open with her footrests. She was grateful when it gave easily but the force of the impact still made her grit her teeth tightly.

When she finally peeked her eyes open again, Quinn found herself in a decent sized, walk in closet. Her eyes scanned the shelves for anything useful, they lingered when they caught sight of the Novril pills that Rachel had been giving her.

Quinn wheeled herself closer before reaching up and grabbing the first sleeve of pills. She tucked them into the waistband of her borrowed sweatpants, along side the bobby pin. After smoothing down her shirt, the blonde reached up to adjust the other sleeves. She wanted to be sure the brunette wouldn't know one was missing.

Once she was sure she could use nothing else from the closet, Quinn backed herself into the hallway.

The next door the blonde managed to open was Rachel's kitchen, hazel eyes swept the room quickly. They widened when they fell on a door on the opposite side of the room. She jerked forward in excitement but cried out when her chairs wheels and her fingers rammed into the door frame.

" _Fuck!_ " She hissed, her head falling back as she tried to calm herself so that she didn't hurt herself more.

Quinn exhaled slowly before trying again but it was too tight of a fit for her to squeeze through.

The blonde grit her teeth, breathing heavily as she stared longingly at the door. She glanced down toward her broken legs before reaching both hands to grab the pants on her right leg. She clenched the fabric tightly, exhaling slowly before lifting the leg over to the left legs rest.

"Oh God!" Quinn gasped, folding up the pieces that had been supporting her right leg to give herself more room.

Without stopping to give herself time to second guess, she quickly lifted and then lowered both legs to the floor. Her feet hit the hard wood with a dull thud and she whimpered as she folded up the pieces of the left leg support.

Once she had lowered herself out of her chair, Quinn army crawled and drug herself toward the door.

She panted, resting a moment when she finally reached her destination. Her right arm and shoulder were growing increasingly achy and stiff.

After collecting herself, Quinn reached up a shaky hand to try the door knob.

"No... No, please!" The blonde whimpered, desperately trying to turn the knob with her sweaty hand.

 

* * *

 

Quinn lifted her head off of the cool tile, unsure of how much time she had spent moping by the door.

She grabbed the side of the refrigerator and used it to pull herself up.

Once she was upright, she leaned against the appliance and got a better look at her surroundings.

Her eyes swept the counter, lingering on the brunette's collection of knives protruding from a wooden block. Quinn's eyes widened as the loud rumble of Rachel's returning vehicle reached her ears.

The blonde lurched forward, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she crawled herself back toward her chair. She ignored the pain in her legs and arm as she lifted herself back up. Sweat dripped down her brow as she set the leg supports back up, one at a time.

When she finally had herself fully settled in, she pushed her fatigued muscles to steer herself back to her room.

Quinn was almost safe, with time to spare when she realized that she had left the door to the living room open.

"Fuck." She swore, wheeling herself back out into the hallway to correct her mistake.

Quinn had just shut the door to her room when she heard Rachel kill the engine of her vehicle. The blonde fumbled with her sweats, a car door slamming as she finally got a grip on the bobby pin.

She had barely locked the door and wheeled herself back to the desk when Rachel entered the front door.

"Quinn, I got your paper!" The brunette called, easily unlocking the bedroom door one handed.

The other woman's eyes widened when they landed on the panting blonde. "Quinn... You are _dripping_ with perspiration and your color is hectic. What have you been doing?"

"You know exactly what I've been doing!"Quinn cried, "I've been sitting here, _suffering_. I need my pills..." She whimpered, her eyes pleading with the brunette.

"Oh, you poor thing. Let me get you back to bed and then I will-"

Quinn glanced down, her eyes widening slightly when she noticed the corner of the pill sleeve sticking out of her sweats.

"I want my pills now!" She begged, clutching at her stomach to hide it from Rachel.

"It will only take a second-" Rachel said, setting the paper down to approach the blonde.

"No. I want them now. I want my pain to go away, Rachel." Quinn panted, "Please... Make it go away."

Rachel's expression remained blank for a moment before she shook her head slowly. "It breaks my heart to see you like this..." She said before leaving the room quickly to fetch the Novril.

Quinn tucked the pills in her possession down further into her sweats and fixed her shirt so that there was no chance that Rachel would see them.

She winced and played up her pain as the brunette's returning footsteps grew louder.

"I have done a lot of thinking... Most of it on my drive. Here you go." She said, handing Quinn her pills and a glass of water.

The blonde swallowed the pills quickly as Rachel steered her toward the bed.

"And I am absolutely certain that the reason I have never been more popular is because of my temper. You must be _so_ mad at me."

Quinn rolled her eyes, _'You have no idea.'_

"The truth now, Quinn." Rachel said, looking back to the blonde expectantly.

"Well, who doesn't let off a little steam every once in a while?" Quinn asked, returning the smile nervously.

Rachel grinned at the response as she removed an armrest so that it would be easier to lift the other woman out.

"My genius needs her rest before she writes!" She ignored the small sigh that the blonde exhaled and moved down to her patient's feet.

She gripped Quinn's legs, "Tootsies up!" She said, lifting them both onto the bed in one go.

She then made her way back to the blonde's side to slip her arm around her neck. "Hold on tight, I have you." Rachel whispered, before hoisting her upper body up onto the bed.

Quinn gasped in pain as the brunette made her way around the bed, adjusting the covers as she went.

"Here, in case you think of any ideas." Rachel said, placing a tablet and pen down beside the blonde.

Quinn licked her lips and looked between Rachel and the tablet. "I wouldn't expect too much."

"Do not be silly, Quinn. You are brilliant." The brunette said, patting her hand. "Think of me as your inspiration."

Rachel paused in the doorway, "I have faith in you, my dear. Catch this." She said, blowing the blonde a kiss.

Quinn smiled sarcastically and flexed her good hand as if she were catching something. The fact that she even bothered to play along made Rachel's grin widen and the brunette sighed happily as she closed the door.

Once the other woman was gone, Quinn spit the pills into her hand.

"My darling..." She scoffed in disgust as she shook her head and stashed her newly acquired pills into their hiding spot.

 

* * *

 

"There, you see that?" Santana exclaimed, pointing toward a dark grey object sticking out of the snow.

The man next to her nodded and she brought her binoculars back up to get a closer look as the chopper turned.

Her heart clenched painfully as the tires and underside of the crashed vehicle came more clearly into view.

Within the next three hours they were lifting the car up onto the road and the Chief of Police was speaking to a cluster of reporters. Santana had turned down the offer to speak for the camera, a dangerous combination of emotions bubbling just under the surface.

"The presumption is now that Quinn Fabray is dead."

The words were like a knife through her heart and Santana clutched at her chest as she listened to the man continue. "We know that she somehow managed to crawl outside of her vehicle but we have been unable to find a body anywhere in the vicinity of the accident."

Santana felt nausea claw and burn at her throat at the thought of Quinn crawling out of the remains of her sedan, blood staining her pale features. The idea of the blonde dying alone out in the snow and wilderness made her want to puke. She should have been there, she should have stayed with her until the other woman was leaving town.

"We also know that if anyone had found her, they would have taken her to an area hospital. Undoubtedly, she is buried somewhere out there in the snow. We will most likely find her after first thaw... That is, unless the animals get to her first. Which is a distinct possibility."

Santana gagged physically at the thought before retching silently over the guardrail behind her. Sam frowned sympathetically toward the woman and watched as she straightened back up, hand over her mouth. The reporters were now asking the Chief of Police their own questions, completely unaware of the distress of the Sheriff.

"Don't listen to that idiot." Sam mumbled, wrapping an arm around the brunette's much smaller body. "We don't know that."

"Don't we?" She asked, her voice cracking over the words.

The blonde man remained silent for a moment and watched as the sedan was lowered down to the road carefully. Once it was settled, he made his way over to inspect it. Sam snapped on a pair of latex gloves and began to check the car over.

He paused by the driver's side door, the door that had been open when the car was found. His fingers trailed slowly over the chipped paint and denting just below the handle.

Sam waved Santana over. "Here, look at this.

"Are those marks from a crowbar?" The brunette asked, kneeling down to get a better look.

"That's what it looked like to me too... She never crawled out of that car by herself, someone pulled her out."

Santana nodded and jumped to her feet. "Hey, we need to get this car moving! I want a full report on it, as soon as possible!"

"She's baaack." Sam said with a grin as he followed the woman as she made her way over to the Chief of Police.

 

* * *

 

Quinn folded a piece of tablet paper, first in half and then both sides in slightly to make a pouch of sorts. The TV was playing loudly and it had been hours since Rachel had been in to see her. Once the pouch was ready, Quinn took one of the Novril and separated the two halves. She tapped a little of the white powder out onto her finger and was pleased to find that it was odor and tasteless.

The blonde emptied the powder from her collection of pills into the pouch, storing the pill casings in her mouth until they dissolved.

 

* * *

 

The next morning found Quinn seated at the desk, eyes staring blankly at the keys of the typewriter.

Her fingers twitched and she let them glide across the keys with little thought. The blonde's head moved jerkily with her hands as she typed rapidly, glaring at the words as they appeared.

**_FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK_ **

Quinn stared at the paper a moment before tugging it out of the typewriter and crumpling it up aggressively. She slid a fresh piece of paper in and stared at it for a moment. The blonde shook her head with a sigh before she started again, typing more carefully this time.

 

* * *

 

Rachel walked into the bedroom, the first ten pages of Misery's Return in her hand.

"No, no... This is all wrong, Quinn."

"What?" The blonde asked in surprise, her hands stilling over the keys.

"You will have to start again." The brunette said, "It is not worthy of you. Throw it _all_ out."

Quinn blinked blankly at her, at a complete loss for words.

"Except for the part about the grave digger sharing my likeness, you can leave that in."

The blonde smiled at her nervously, "I really value your criticism but... Maybe we're being a little hasty here."

"Quinn, what you have written is just not fair."

"Not fair..."

"That is right. You cannot just give her some miracle blood transfusion... Misery was buried in the ground at the end, Quinn. You have to start there." Rachel said, placing the pages on the desk before stomping away dramatically.

Quinn's head fell into her hands and she shook it back and forth slowly.

 

* * *

 

The blonde sat, chewing at her nails and gazing out the window. Rachel sat nearby, reading in a chair she had brought in from another room.

It was her second attempt at Misery's Return and it had taken her forever to come up with a suitable way to revive her character properly. So Quinn ignored the brunette completely, her eyes following the snowflakes as they fell lazily outside.

She only looked back when she heard the sound of shifting paper, enough of it to suggest that the brunette was checking to see that she had read through them all. Her eyes immediately met Rachel's as the other woman raised them from her lap.

"So... Should I continue?"

Rachel's teeth worried her lip and she nodded, eyes wide in awe. "You better. Oh, Quinn. When Ian realized that the reason they buried Misery alive was that the bee sting had put her into a temporary coma-" She broke off, gasping excitedly. "And when gravedigger Wilkes remembered that the same thing happened to Lady Evelyn High thirty years earlier. Oh, and-"

Quinn nodded, sweetening her act with a fake laugh as Rachel continued to gush.

"Oh Quinn, can I read each chapter as you finish them? I can fill in the n's." Rachel asked, pleading desperately with her big brown eyes.

Quinn nodded, "Of course you can, Rachel."

The brunette's expression fell slightly, "Wait... Will Misery be able to remember Ian, or will she have amnesia?"

The blonde shook her head and tutted softly, "No, no... You'll have to wait to find out."

"Will she still have that special, _perfect_ love?"

"You'll have to wait for that, too."

"Not even a hint?" Rachel asked, pouting slightly.

"Uh-uh." Quinn said, pursing her lips and shaking her head.

Rachel squealed and spun around in circles excitedly. "Misery is alive, she is alive! Oh, it is just so romantic!"

Quinn watched with faux amusement as the brunette paused and gasped loudly. "I am going to put on my Streisand records!" The brunette cried before fleeing the room.

Quinn looked back to the door, one slender brow arched when the brunette reappeared. "You like Barba, right?"

"Of course!" The blonde said, flashing the other woman a bright smile. Rachel returned the expression and turned to leave but Quinn caught her before she got too far. "Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking... That we should celebrate Misery's Return. Would you have dinner with me?" The blonde asked, dropping her eyes before moving them back up coyly.

A slow smile crept across Rachel's lips before engulfing the lower half of her face. "Yes, yes, of course!" The brunette said happily, twirling again in the hallway before disappearing from view. "It would be an honor!"

Quinn sighed, slouching in her chair and looking back toward the window. She wished that she could be having a real romantic dinner with another brunette.

 

* * *

 

  
_I see you_   
_Day to day_   
_I see you_   
_And I love the way_   
_Your lips suck that cigarette_   
_I see you_   
_Haven't seen me yet..._   



	3. Chapter 3

  
_And oh, how I liked you_   
_Your were my very own_   
_Oh, how I like you_   
_Even as I broke your bones..._   


* * *

_  
_   


"No, sorry Brittany... Your man is out on the town." Santana said, filing her nails as she talked into the phone. The brunette looked up as the bell by the front door chimed. "Oh wait, he just got back. Here you go."

Sam flushed slightly when the woman wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Hey Sweetie, how are you feeling? Oh, good. I'm glad. I'll pick up dinner on the way home, text me if you need anything else."

The man rolled his eyes, turning away so that he could fully ignore the crude gestures Santana was making.

"Mhmm. I love you too, B. I've got to go now, I need to talk to the Sheriff."

Santana rolled her eyes and settled back into her chair as Sam hung up the phone. "You two are disgusting."

"Oh, hush. You and your lady are just as adorable." He said, plopping a large yellow bag down on her desk. As soon as the words left his mouth he worried that it was too soon to have said something like that.

The brunette remained silent for a moment, her eyes glued to her fingernails. "What's in the bag?" She asked suddenly, without looking up.

"The whole Misery collection, thought maybe seeing some of her work might help me to get to know her a little better... So I can contribute more to the search."

Santana made a small noise in the back of her throat and plucked one of the books from the bag. "Good luck. I knew her pretty intimately and I haven't been of much help."

Sam frowned, "No past tense... Okay? Maybe we're just looking at things the wrong way."

"Yeah... Right." Santana sighed, running her hand through her hand, "The local police are withdrawing from the investigation after another week... Then we'll be the only ones investigating."

Sam's frown deepened, "Who needs them anyway? They were ready to throw in the towel before they even took a look at her car."

Santana laughed bitterly, "They're just being realistic, Froggy Lips."

"You aren't giving up on her... Are you?"

The brunette chewed on her lip, "No, of course not. I just... I don't know what I'll do if they do find a body."

A pregnant pause lingered between the two of them before Santana slipped the book back into Sam's bag. "Go on, get home to your pregnant wife. She'll probably like these more than you will."

"Hey now, I resent that. Maybe I will even read them to her." He said with a wink.

Santana gagged, "Seriously, get out. You're disgusting Evans."

 

* * *

 

"I hope you like it... Vegan lasagna, inspired by my Grandmother's old recipe."

"It looks wonderful, Rachel. And so do you." Quinn said, accepting a roll from the brunette. "Do you do that with a lot of recipes?"

"Uhm, yes. I consider it a hobby of sorts." Rachel said as she took her seat, carefully folding her napkin over her lap.

Quinn smiled as the brunette's eyes flicked toward her before lowering bashfully. She had mastered the art of seduction in high school, enabling her to catch the attention of pretty much whoever she wanted.

The other woman was so shy and reserved that she didn't seem to know how she should respond. Quinn had her right where she wanted her.

She cut off a piece of lasagna with the side of her fork, smiling at the weight of Rachel's gaze following the food to her mouth.

Quinn groaned happily at the taste, pointedly meeting Rachel's nervous eyes. "This is amazing, some of the best lasagna I've ever had." She was a little worried that she might be laying it on too thick but she wasn't lying. Rachel was a very impressive chef.

Quinn took another bite before covering her mouth, "Oh, wait! We should have a toast."

"Toast?" Rachel asked, seemingly amused by the idea.

"Yes, to Misery and her miraculous return." The blonde said, her good mood finally tugging a shy smile from the other woman. "Here, let me pour you some wine..." Quinn said, biting on her bottom lip as she carefully poured with her good arm.

The deep burgundy liquid had reached about halfway when Rachel held up her hand with a chuckle, "No, no more... Thank you."

Quinn shook her head with a laugh before moving on to her own glass.

"To Misery." Rachel said lifting her glass, Quinn nodded and lifted her own. Their glasses let off a small 'clink' as they connected and Rachel brought hers to her lips.

"Wait!" The brunette's eyes flew open and she shot Quinn a confused look. "Let's do this right, do you have any candles?"

"Oh." Rachel said, blinking. "I don't know- I- Think so. I will go look." She stammered, rising quickly to hide the blush creeping across her features.

As soon as the other woman left the room, Quinn was pulling out the pouch containing the powder from her pills. She folded open the top and leaned over quickly to pour its contents into Rachel's glass.

She lifted the glass, swirling its contents to help the powder dissolve more quickly. Once she was sure that Rachel wouldn't think something was amiss, Quinn returned the glass to the table.

A few minutes later, Rachel emerged from the kitchen, a single candle in hand. "If anyone had ever told me that one day I would be having a candle lit dinner with Quinn Fabray... In my own house, no less. I would have to check both legs to see which one was being pulled!"

Quinn laughed, waving her good hand at the joke as Rachel lit the candle.

"Will this do?" The brunette asked, waving out the match as she reclaimed her seat.

"It's perfect..." Quinn said softly, her eyes watching closely as Rachel grabbed her glass. "To Misery _and_ Rachel Wilkes, who brought her back to life. And returned mine to me."

"Oh, Quinn... I get goosebumps every time I think about it." Rachel said, leaning across so that they could touch their glasses together. She gasped suddenly when her arm bumped the candle, knocking it over in the process.

Quinn watched in horror as Rachel's glass slipped from her grip, meeting the table with a dull thud. The wine spilled out onto the table cloth, successfully drowning the fire along with Quinn's plan.

"Oh my God, what have I done?" Rachel gasped, trying to sop up the mess with her napkin. "I am so sorry, Quinn... I ruined your beautiful toast."

Quinn could only stare wide eyed as the wine seeped deeper into the table cloth. The red puddle expanding slowly, growing larger with each passing second.

"Can you ever forgive me? Here, I -I can pour another one." The blonde continued to stare, blinking slowly when Rachel spoke up again. "Can we pretend this never happened?"

Quinn shrugged, a halfhearted smile pulling at her lips as she once again put her glass forward.

"To Misery."

"To Misery." Quinn echoed, before quickly draining her glass.

 

* * *

 

Quinn giggled loudly as Rachel lifted her out of her chair and back into bed. The blonde's hair, which had been pulled into a loose braid, was now quite messy.

"You drank far too much for me to give you your pills, Quinn. I may need to give you a shot in the morning... With all of the flailing that you are doing you are bound to be quite sore." The brunette mumbled as she tucked the other woman in.

"You worry too much." Quinn slurred with a chuckle, batting her fussing hands away. She squinted toward the brunette as a goofy smile encompassed her features. "You always worry too much, 'Tana. C'mere."

She tugged the other woman down toward her by the collar of her cardigan, ignoring the slight hesitation on the brunette's part.

Rachel's eyes widened as the blonde's lips met her own. And she was too distracted by the sensation for her mind to linger on the nickname Quinn had used.

Quinn brought her hands up to frame the other woman's face, her brow furrowing as she realized that something wasn't right. The lips against hers didn't taste right, didn't _feel_ right.

The blonde broke the kiss suddenly, sobering momentarily in her drunken haze as realization dawned on her.

"Rachel... I-I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"There is nothing to apologize for, Quinn." The brunette breathed before leaning back in to kiss the other woman.

Quinn placed her hands gently against Rachel's shoulders, "I can't do this, Rachel. I'm married." She whispered firmly, watching closely as the brunette blinked her half lidded eyes.

A sharp crack broke the silence of the dark room and Quinn's cheek burned from the force of the slap.

"Can't because you're _married_? Who is 'Tana, Quinn? That doesn't sound at all like the name of your _husband_!" Rachel hissed before pulling the blonde to her and recapturing her lips in a bruising kiss.

Quinn's eyes burned, she didn't pull away for fear of being struck again. She didn't return the kiss, she instead remained still and let Rachel do as she pleased. She shivered, disgust twisting her stomach as the brunette's tongue forced its way between her lips to run against her teeth.

After a few hints, Rachel either got the hint or decided she was bored and pulled back slightly.

Quinn refused to look at the brunette and instead kept her eyes fixed on the dark wall over the woman's shoulder.

Rachel rose suddenly with a huff and stomped her way to the door, slamming it before she locked it angrily.

As soon as the other woman's heavy footsteps disappeared, Quinn allowed herself to break down. A loud sob ripped forth from her throat and her body was wracked with deep tremors. She felt disgusting and for the first time since kissing someone other than her husband, she felt like a cheater.

But it wasn't Finn's face that brought the sobering wave of guilt, it was Santana's.

 

* * *

 

That night was never brought up again, and after about a week, Rachel returned to her normal level of insanity.

Quinn continued to work on Misery's Return over the next three months. With each passing day, she felt her strength returning. The bruising on her legs had all but disappeared and they were much easier to move, more stiff now than excruciatingly painful. The stitches on her forehead had been removed a few days after her 'romantic dinner' with Rachel.

Luckily for Quinn, the brunette was too busy reading her quickly growing novel to ask for a second dinner. They did eat together on occasion but it wasn't nearly as intimate.

Around chapter twelve, Rachel had approached her with a wide, giddy smile. "This is the best Misery novel you have ever written, Quinn."

Little did they know, Sam Evans was working his way through the other novels.

 

* * *

 

Quinn jumped in her wheelchair as thunder clapped loudly outside and the blonde placed a hand over her chest. Her eyes moved to ward the window as her heart pounded beneath her palm.

She sat back and relaxed, her eyes watching the downpour outside. It was dark but the night sky lit up occasionally as lightning crawled across it.

After a while, Quinn grew bored of storm watching. She removed her right arm from her sling and gripped the typewriter tightly. The device was just heavy enough to lift as a form of exercise for her recovering muscles without too much strain. She did small rounds of reps every time she finished a chapter, building up the amount of reps every couple of days.

Quinn huffed and placed the typewriter back on the down at the sound of approaching footsteps.

The door opened suddenly and Rachel made her way into the room. Her slippered feet drug against the floor boards as she made her way over to the blonde's desk.

"Here are your pills." She said, her voice and expression devoid of emotion.

The blonde frowned as she took in the other woman's tired and disheveled appearance. Quinn's teeth worried her lip as she watched Rachel turn to leave.

"Rachel?"

The brunette paused by the door, her hand on the knob. She had turned her head slightly but otherwise remained facing the hallway.

"What's wrong, Rachel?"

The other woman turned back to the room now and shrugged. "The rain. Sometimes it gives me the blues." She answered, her voice low and empty. "When you first came here... I only loved the writer part of Quinn Fabray. But now, I know that I love the rest of her, too."

Rachel turned her red and puffy eyes to meet Quinn's, her frown deepening. "I know you do not love me... And do not say otherwise. You are a beautiful, brilliant, famous woman of the world and I am-" She paused a moment, staring at the floor and shaking her head. "Not the movie star type."

The brunette paused again, her eyes rising slowly to meet Quinn's once more. "You will never know the _fear_ of losing someone like you, if you're someone like me."

Quinn shook her head, smiling gently. "Why would you lose me?"

Rachel's eyes fell back to the floor but they kept their unblinking quality. "The book is almost finished... Your legs are getting better... Soon you will want to leave."

"Why would I leave?" The blonde questioned softly, smile still in place. "I like it hear."

"That is very kind of you... But I bet that it is not all together true."

Quinn swallowed hard at the cold look that had seeped into the brunette's eyes. She was momentarily grateful when they moved away from her own to look back down.

The blonde watched as Rachel drew her hand slowly from the pocket of her robe. A shiver rolled down her spine as the light from her desk caught what she had clenched tightly in her hand.

"I have this gun..." Rachel continued in her monotone voice, Quinn's nerves frayed further as the brunette's finger teased the trigger. The gun clicked loudly but it was obvious that it was unloaded. Quinn relaxed at this but only slightly.

"Sometimes, I think about using it." Rachel raised her eyes again, instantly noticing the blonde's smile had disappeared. "I should go-" The brunette muttered, "I might put bullets in it." She said before closing the door behind her as she made her way back into the hallway.

Quinn exhaled heavily, her eyes wide. She struggled to catch her breath as the sounds of Rachel moving around in the house grew fainter.

The blonde looked up suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest as the brunette's footsteps approached her door.

To her relief, Rachel passed her room and made her way outside before slamming the front door loudly.

Quinn watched the brunette stalk her way over gravel toward her pick up.

As soon as the truck was out of view, Quinn unlocked the door and made her way to the kitchen. Her nerves were still frayed, muscles tense and jumpy.

She set her teeth as she leaned up toward the counter, her arm stretched to its limit. Her straining muscles relaxed slightly as her fingers closed around the cool handle of Rachel's large chef knife. The metal gleams as it is withdrawn from the block and Quinn feels safer already.

She nods to herself as she carefully makes her way back over to her chair with the knife, settling herself in before placing the weapon on her lap. Once she is done and sure the light is off and the door is shut, Quinn made her way quickly back toward her room.

She was almost there when she noticed that not only had a light been left on but Rachel had left a large book out as well. It was splayed open across the coffee table with scissors and an assortment of newspaper clippings. The blonde's curiosity got the better of her and she turned her chair around to go and investigate.

She wheeled herself closer to the scrapbook, her brows furrowing as she placed it in her lap.

The page it was opened to contained news paper clippings about herself, the first one reading _**'Where is Quinn Fabray?'** _ The bold letters of the one below that sent a shiver down her spine. **_'Quinn Fabray Presumed Dead_** ** _'_** and **_'Missing Author's Car Found Buried in Snow'_** were both laid out in thick, black ink.

Her eyes grew glossy as she caught sight of an obviously distressed Santana in the background of an attached image of her car being lowered to the road.

"She thinks I'm dead..." Quinn whimpered, her fingers brushing over the picture. "They all do."

She shook her head and gulped at the thought, closing the book so that she could look through it from the beginning. The crease in her brow deepened when she realized that she recognized the red cover.

Quinn stared at the whispy silver words that read _'Memory Lane'_ , before flipping the cover aside to flip through the pages.

Most of the ones toward the beginning seemed normal enough, they documented Rachel's childhood.

Quinn paused a moment, taking in the sight of a much younger Rachel with her parents. The brunette had never mentioned having two fathers and she couldn't help but smile at the image. She wondered what her children would be like, if and when she and Santana had a family.

She shook her head and skimmed the next few pages, her eyes pausing on another news paper article.

Although the woman's name, Shelby Corcoran, didn't mean anything to her; the woman's picture did. She looked extremely similar to Rachel, their eyes and jawline especially.

Moving on to the next page, Quinn's eyes widened when they fell on two obituaries for Rachel's fathers.

The article attached said that they died in a freak accident. A car crash brought on my faulty breaks.

The blonde frowned and stared at the men's names. "Hiram and LeRoy _Berry_?" She said aloud, her mind buzzing as realization dawned on her.

"Oh my God." Quinn whispered, staring blankly at the line that read: _'...Survived by their daughter, Rachel Berry.'_

She knew she had recognized Rachel vaguely but now she was sure of it. She had attended high school with Rachel _and_ Finn.

The other woman had always stared after her and her boyfriend longingly.

Quinn frowned remembering how badly she had treated the brunette back then. She found it shocking that the other woman supported her by reading her books and hadn't just left her in the snow to freeze to death.

_"Let me guess, you were some snobby, privileged cheerleader." Santana joked, cuddling into the crook of her neck._

_Quinn shivered at the other woman's touch. "Yes, actually. I was." She said, frowning slightly as she thought back to her high school years._

_Santana sat up slightly and mirrored the expression, "It couldn't have been_ that _bad. I'm sure that you won Prom Queen and you said you already graduated with your_ sweetheart _on your arm." Santana said, mumbling the last part out with a pout._

_"I did. And for the record, I wish that my sweetheart had been you... I would give you all of those years, if I could."_

_The brunette smiled softly, resting her chin on one hand and gently stroking Quinn's cheek with the other. "So why the frown, beautiful?"_

_The blonde averted her eyes, "I wasn't a very nice person back then..."_

_Santana shrugged, "Neither was I. The only straight I was... Was straight up bitch." She said, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows. "Besides, I'm pretty sure ninety percent of the population is angry, mean and brooding throughout high school."_

_Quinn full on laughed at this, "True. There was one girl in particular that I was cruel to though..."_

_"Why? Did you want up her skirt and she wouldn't let you?" Santana asked, smiling cheekily with a tilt of her head._

_"Oh God, no." The blonde said, smacking the other woman on the arm. "Deep down-" Quinn rolled her eyes when Santana made the crude gesture of a 'v' over her mouth. "Deep down, I_ respected _her. She was driven, knew exactly what she wanted and who she wanted to be. I think that was why I resented her so much."_

_Santana frowned and dropped her hand back to the bed as she watched pure regret engulf the other woman's features. "Hey, I'm sure she doesn't even remember all of that. She probably just brags to everyone that she knew_ the Quinn Fabray _during her years before fame. Okay?_

_Quinn smiled with a nod and cuddled closer to the darker woman, wrapping her arms securely around her waist._

The blonde blinked and flipped a few pages ahead, her hand trembling.

Her eyes widened as they fell on the photos that were carefully fixed to the pages that she paused on next. She had thought young Rachel's nose had looked different from than the older counterpart that she had known for the last few months. She hadn't thought about it at first, too focused on the fact that the brunette had managed to keep her fooled for so long.

The photos she was staring at now were before and after shots, documenting Rachel's cosmetic surgery. There were four in all, two from the front and two profile shots.

But to Quinn, the most unsettling part of the page was the photo taped to the lower right hand corner. She recognized it from their senior year book, it was a rather close up shot of her. The blonde frowned, tracing her fingertips along the hearts that had been hastily drawn around her picture.

She shook her head and flipped a few more pages, not wanting to dwell on the attached photo and how much Rachel's new nose resembled her own.

The blonde paused, a news paper clipping catching her eye. **_'Top Nursing Student Falls To Her Death'_** and **_'Classmates Shocked After Freak Mishap'_** sending another shiver down her spine. Her eyes scanned lower on the page to the next article which read _**'Rachel B. Berry Garners Nursing School Honors.'**_

Quinn shook her head and fought down the fear beginning to prickle her skin. She skimmed more before pausing again, **_'Rachel Berry to Head Intensive Care Unit.'_** Just next to that article was an obituary for their former high school Coach who passed away after a long hospital stay. And the one below that was titled, **_'Used Car King Suffers Fatal Stroke While Hospitalized.'_**

The blonde's heart sank, she recognized the last two. Coach Shannon Bieste had been her gym teacher for all of high school and had been Finn's football Coach, she wondered if he even knew. If he did, he had never mentioned it.

The second, the Used Car King, was none other than Noah Puckerman. The man had been Finn's best friend, once upon a time. The two of them had stopped talking shortly after Quinn and Finn had started dating. Apparently, Puck had a crush on her and was angry at Finn for breaking their 'bro code.' Quinn had never really understood what the code was but she could tell that Puck was immensely hurt. She had been shocked, he was known for being a playboy but apparently he had truly cared for her. She swallowed thickly, turning several pages at a time just to get away from those familiar faces.

**_'Veteran Pediatrician Dies While in Coma at Local Hospital.'_ **

**_'Berry Named County's Head Maternity Nurse.'_ **

A few pages later, **_'Baby Lucie Dies After Five Week Struggle in Hospital. Parent's Distressed Over Death of Child.'_**

**_'Second Newborn Death at Lima County Memorial'_** and a hand written note that read: _'Another baby.'_ **  
**

The trembling had increased in Quinn's hands, forcing her to turn the pages more carefully so they didn't rip.

**_'Nurse questioned in Hospital Infant Deaths'_** and ** _'Infant Deaths Return to Hospital's Nursery Ward.'_**

Quinn moved through two more similar pages before pausing on a rather large article with a picture of a wild eyed Rachel attached. **_'Maternity Nurse Behind Bars, "Dragon Lady" Arrested in Recent Baby_ _Deaths.'_** The blonde's eyes skimmed the title before moving back to the picture, the look in her eyes chilled the blonde to her core. It was the same look she had worn that night.

Unable to look at any more, Quinn flipped back to the articles about herself before abandoning the room.

She wheeled herself quickly across the hallway before re-locking her door, her unsteady hands giving her some difficulty. Once she was sure the door was locked, Quinn wheeled herself to the bed. She hoisted herself out of the chair and settled her body back against the pillows. Once she had given herself a chance to catch her breath, the blonde grabbed the knife from where it laid on top of the comforter.

Quinn gripped the handle tightly before slipping it into her makeshift sling. The fabric hid the blade from view but allowed her easy access to it should she need to grab it in a hurry. Once she had practiced removing it with both hands, she glanced toward the window. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled loudly as the storm continued outside.

 

* * *

 

"There is a justice higher than that of man, I will be judged by him." Sam read slowly, repeating the phrase to himself with a furrowed brow.

"What is it, babe?" Brittany asked, a small frown playing at her lips.

The man blinked before turning his attention to his pregnant wife, smiling at the way she cradled her belly with her arms.

"Nothing, B. Just work stuff, sorry. I'll read more once I mark this down..." He said, reaching for the mostly blank scrap of folded tablet paper he used for a book mark.

"What do you think you've found? Do you really think that quote has something to do with Quinn directly?" Brittany asked, her own brow creased in confusion.

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully for a moment, "Not Quinn exactly... But someone who most likely knows her work, if they're quoting her."

"... I don't understand, who?"

The man fidgeted with the pen in his hands and Brittany rolled her eyes. "Unless you saw her while we were together, I don't care, Sammy. Now spit it out!"

"No, no. She was before you, Britt. I promise." He said, reaching over to grip her hand with his own. "I met her about five years ago, right after she came to town. Do you remember Annie Wilkes?"

His wife nodded, "She was Annie's niece, came up to take care of her. Apparently she fell ill while taking care of the farm."

"I always wondered why she stopped coming around town, she was so nice." Sam nodded in agreement and Brittany squeezed his hand to urge him to continue.

"Anyway, so... The first couple of times Rachel came into town... She seemed lost. I ended up having to pull her over for rolling through a stop sign, she seemed really nice and just confused. I felt bad. So I offered to take her for coffee at the diner and show her where everything was."

"Samuel! Taking advantage of the poor girl while she's new in town!"

He chuckled at his wife and shook his head, "It wasn't like that. We never ended up getting very close. She always acted strange when I asked about Annie and claimed I couldn't see her when I stopped by. She did admit to being a nurse and slipped up once while introducing herself to Blaine. Her last name wasn't Wilkes, it was Berry. She admitted to only being a family friend of the Wilke's and after she heard of Annie's heart trouble... She moved in to try and help ease her burden. We stopped talking around the time Annie died, she said that she felt guilty for not saving her. Being a nurse and all."

"Honey, this is a nice story but what does it have to do with that quote?"

Sam chewed on his cheek again, "I had been considering asking her out but... After she gave me the wrong last name, I looked her up. She had been questioned in court-"

"For what?" Brittany asked, wide eyed.

"Well woman, if you would let me talk, you'd know! The hospital she worked at had lost an alarming amount of infants in a short time... It was believed that malicious intent might have been involved."

"They think she killed babies?" Brittany squeaked, arms tightening over her stomach protectively.

"Yes, although she got off without charges and moved here shortly after. I didn't think much about it until now. I'm going to pull it up again tomorrow, if I can find it. She said this quote to interviewers outside of the courthouse." He said tapping the paper. "I'm going to double check but I'm almost certain."

A silence hung between them for a few minutes before Brittany exhaled nervously. "Are you going to tell Santana?"

"I don't know." Sam mumbled, tucking the paper between the pages. Now that he had said it out loud, he didn't want to read anymore. He just wanted to hold his wife and unborn baby and not think about it for a few hours.

 

* * *

 

Although she had desperately fought to stay awake, Quinn was in a light sleeping state when Rachel finally returned.

The sound of the approaching engine woke the blonde with a start, her eyes shot open as the head lights flashed through the window.

Quinn's fingers tightened automatically around the hilt of the knife and she tried to calm her racing heart.

The woman laid still, teeth grinding slightly as the truck door was slammed loudly. Shortly after, the front door was tugged open before it too was slammed shut and locked.

Quinn's body trembled without her permission as Rachel flicked on light the in the hallway.

She watched the small sliver of light between the floor and door as the brunette's footsteps drew closer. The shadows of Rachel's feet paused on the other side of the door but she never entered.

She stood there for motionless for a minute before finally moving down the hall and upstairs and once she was gone, the blonde released a shaky breath.

The TV was on several minutes later and Quinn licked her lips nervously before throwing back the covers. She removed the knife from her sling before stashing it between the mattress and box spring.

"See you in the morning, Man Hands." She muttered, smoothing the blankets back into place.

 

* * *

 

Thunder boomed loudly, stirring Quinn from her dreamless sleep. The blonde groaned and cracked her eyes open slowly.

She licked her lips and glanced toward the window to where she could see that it was still raining heavily.

Suddenly, the eerie feeling that she was being watched made the fine hairs along her forearms stand on end. Her eyes scanned the dark room and she let out a small squeak when she noticed Rachel standing at her bedside, opposite of the window.

Quinn barely had time to register the other woman's blank eyes before the brunette was lunging toward her.

The blonde hissed through clenched teeth as a needle was jammed into her arm and whatever was in it was _strong_. She tried to lash out as Rachel drew back but her arms were already growing heavy and uncooperative.

Quinn was left only with the ability to stare up weakly, completely at the mercy of the brunette.

Finally, she lost even the ability to keep her eyelids up. They drooped slowly before falling completely closed. Quinn panicked internally as her other senses began to give out. The last thing she heard before going unconscious was the sound of Rachel's retreating footsteps.

 

* * *

 

Quinn's eyes fluttered open slowly and she chuckled. She then blinked, chuckling more as her glazed eyes scanned the ceiling above.

"Quinn."

"Hmm?" The blonde hummed, slowly turning her head toward the voice.

"I know you have been out." Rachel said, her body jerking as she tightened something on the bed.

Quinn blinked and glanced down toward her chest, suddenly aware of the pressure stretched across it. Four thick straps- like the kind used to strap things to vehicles- held her flat to the bed.

Suddenly, a bit of clarity came back to the blonde, "What?" She squeaked, flexing her feet and wiggling her toes.

"You have been out of your room." Rachel stated simply, straightening back up.

Quinn laughed and shook her head rapidly. "No, I haven't!" She kept her eyes fixed on Rachel's as her hand snuck over the side of the bed, toward the knife.

"Quinn, my little ceramic penguin in the living room always faces due South." The brunette said in accusatory tone, the blonde blinked, sobering more.

"I d-don't know what you're talking about..." She mumbled, her arm reaching more desperately for the knife now. "Ceramic penguin? What?" She scoffed, shaking her head with a giggle.

"Is this what you are looking for?"

Quinn's head shot up at the question. She wasn't sure if it was the sudden movement or the sight of the knife in the brunette's hand that made her feel dizzy and nauseous.

"I know you have been out twice, Quinn." Rachel said, moving away from the bed and over to the desk. Quinn's body relaxed slightly as the brunette placed the knife down next to the typewriter.

"At first, I could not figure out how you did it." Rachel said, shaking her head as she turned back to face the blonde. "But last night... I found your key." She said, holding up the abnormally bent bobby pin.

"I know that I left my scrapbook out..." Rachel said, her voice almost a whisper as she approached the end of the bed. "I can only imagine what you must think of me." She said, wringing her hands against the metal bed frame. "I lied to you, about who I was... I was so surprised really, that you did not see right through my disguise."

"You got a nose job and moved to nowhere, Colorado." Quinn snapped sarcastically.

Rachel nodded and gave a small shrug. "That surgery was worth _every_ penny of my Father's money... Although, they did hassle me an awful lot over this beauty." She said, tapping her nose with her index finger.

"They would not give me your nose... They said that I would need to have you come in, sign paper work and get your own photos done. So we found the closest match. It took months but as you can see, it was worth it." She flashed Quinn a smile, ignoring the blonde's disgusted grimace.

"You used your dirty money from murdering your fathers to get a nose job?" She asked, the brunette laughed.

"That and school. I did have a job you know, not all of us had a father that just bought us whatever we wanted..."

"That doesn't mean you kill to get what you want." Quinn said lowly, Rachel laughed again. The sound was lower this time, throatier.

"Have you ever thought about killing someone, Quinn?" She asked, eying the blonde from where she stood at the foot of the bed. Quinn remained silent, her jaw set to a hard edge. "The first time I killed... Well, I was seventeen. Finally had permission to stay out later and use the family car. You see... My biological Mother, Shelby, well... She was not a very good Mother. I fell ill in eighth grade, you probably would not remember..."

"I don't."

"Of course not, well, anyway... The doctors at the hospital needed my records and my Father's did not have them. They tried to contact Shelby and she refused to accept their calls. Even when lawyers were involved to contact her, she refused to help. I almost died Quinn." She paused a moment, before continuing when the blonde barely batted an eye. "I decided that day that I hated my Mother and that one day, I would make her pay. I suffered from depression for most of my years in school. Both due to bullying and my Mother. My Father's were sympathetic for a while but they began to tell me to just get over it. That I had to move passed it if I ever wanted to be happy. Music had always been a passion of mine but I clung to it for dear life. It was literally the only thing that kept me alive before I decided to go to Medical School."

"My Mother's death was not as personal as I would have liked... But it worked out well enough, I managed to track her down through my Father's old adoption records. They had a pretty good relationship with her through the pregnancy but she cut them and me off as soon as I was born... It didn't take much to stage a fire and I had already established an alibi. No one even knew that I knew where she lived."

Quinn averted her eyes, the tendon across her jaw flexing as she tried not to think about what Rachel could do to her.

"My Father's were easily enough too, I have always prided myself on being a fast learner." The brunette said, smugly. "Anyway... Last night it all became so clear to me, Quinn. You see, I realized, all you need is more time. You see, the last woman who lived here... Annie Wilkes, she wanted to leave too. When her body got used to the sedatives... I had to find a new solution."

The blonde's chest began to heave, the tightness of the strap against her only made it more difficult to breathe. The walls felt like they were closing in, forcing her closer to the other woman.

"Eventually, you will come to accept the idea of being here with me, just like she did." She paused, reaching her right hand down slightly. "Quinn, do you know about the early days of the Kimberly Diamond mines? Do you know what they did to the native workers who stole diamonds?"

Quinn struggled against her restraints, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. "P-please, don't do this Rachel..."

"Oh, do not worry, they did not kill them. And I will not do to you what I did to Annie... You are far too special for that, Quinn. You see, Annie... She tried to get out, just like you. So I had to take an axe to her and remove her feet. After, I cauterized the wound with a blow torch from her barn..."

Quinn whimpered loudly, her face reddening as she struggled more valiantly against the straps. Tears began to fall down rapidly as the brunette paused, licking her lips before continuing.

"The operation is called hobbling."

Quinn watched in horror as Rachel lifted up a thick, rectangular piece of wood.

The brunette pursed her lips and leaned over the bed frame to slip the plank between Quinn's ankles.

"R-Rachel... Whatever you're thinking about doing, please don't." She had tried to ask calmly but a loud whimper erupted up her throat when the brunette lifted up a large mallet next. "Oh God, no, please no! Is this about Finn? You can have him, I don't care!" Quinn sputtered, lifting her head as high as she could from her pillow.

Rachel paused at this and chuckled loudly, "No, I do not care about Finn Hudson."

Quinn shook her head rapidly, "Yes, you do! You were always staring at him, at _us_!"

The amused smile left the brunette's lips as quickly as it had come. "This _isn't_ about Finn, it _never_ was." She answered coldly, moving around to the right side of the bed.

"Rachel, please don't do this... I'll do whatever you want, I swear!" Quinn begged, her fingers tightening into a fist.

"Shhh, trust me darling." Rachel whispered, bringing her arms back. "It is for the best."

The rest of Quinn's pleas were quickly over taken by screams as the mallet met bone. Her foot bent in at an unnatural angle as the ankle gave way.

"Almost done." Rachel breathed as she made her way around to the other side of the bed. "Just one more."

Quinn's screams quieted slightly until the mallet landed a second time with a sickening crunch. The blonde's head was thrown back, neck flushed and tendons protruding as she cried out.

She threw her head back and forth against the pillow. She would without a doubt be thrashing her entire body if it weren't for the straps holding her in place.

Rachel sighed as she watched the other woman writhe in agony on the bed. "God, I love you..."

* * *

  
_Tell_   
_Me_   
_Please_   
_Does it hurt??_   



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter, lyrics are Otep's Crush.

 

 

  
_You were my very own_  
Oh, how I liked you!  
You were my very own  
 _Mine alone..._

  
_I made it so special for you_   
_A bed of roses for you to bloom.._

* * *

 

"Hey, I'm going to look into something now that I've caught up on my paperwork. You sure you don't need anything else?"

Santana removed the phone from between her ear and shoulder. "What is it, want to switch?" She asked, he chuckled.

"Tracking some old news article, found a quote that might lead somewhere."

Santana narrowed her eyes, "Never mind. That sounds even more boring than being on hold for... An hour and a half. What the actual fuck is this man doing?" She asked, thoroughly exasperated with the entire situation.

"Sorry you've got to deal with all that..." Sam said, making his way back over to his desk. He decided shortly after starting his search that he would look for Rachel's arrest record instead so that he would at least have a date to work with. From there it was easy enough to track down the article and confirm the quote.

He glanced toward Santana, the brunette was filling out a Sudoku puzzle rather aggressively. She was mumbling to herself, the phone still tucked under her ear.

"I'm going to head out Sheriff, you want to come along?" Sam asked, rising from his seat.

When he didn't get a response, he looked back over to the woman. She had stopped writing and was holding up her index finger toward him.

"Yes. Hello, Mr. Hudson." Santana started before waving her deputy off, the man chuckled and shrugged on his jacket.

"I was calling to see when you might be able to come down and collect your wife's affects. There was luggage and various other belongings found in the trunk of her vehicle. And you will also need to-" Santana paused, sucking in a deep breath before continuing. "We will need to have access to your wife's will so that we can decide what is to happen to her property in the event that she is-"

"Dead, if she's dead. I know that is what you want to say, you don't have to sugar coat it for me, ma'am."

Santana swallowed thickly and she wondered then, how he would feel if he knew that the reason she avoided saying it out loud wasn't for his sake at all.

"Uhm, yes sir. We are still conducting small searches and so far the K-9 Unit has had no luck in their larger sweeps."

"Why?"

"... Why what, Mr. Hudson?"

"Why are you still searching... If you think she's dead?"

Santana remained silent for a moment and contemplated on how best to answer. "I don't think she's dead but I won't lie to you... Many of my colleagues do."

Finn sighed, "How do you still have hope? I-I have forced myself to be content with the idea that I won't see her again. Anyway, I shouldn't burden you with my troubles... You're only doing your job and I'm sure her parents would appreciate to have her body for a funeral. I will contact them, I will not be able to leave..."

Santana balled her hand into a fist around her pen, "You _won't_ be able to leave?" She asked, appalled by his callous disregard for Quinn, even now.

"It may seem insensitive to you... But my business will not run itself."

"I see, I will leave you to it then. Please have Mr. or Mrs. Fabray contact me as soon as possible." She bit out before ending the call without a goodbye.

 

* * *

 

Quinn stared listlessly at her once again bruised and swollen feet. She completely ignored the sound of a car door outside, knowing that it was only Rachel returning from her trip to town.

She only looked up when she heard the brunette calling her sow, which trotted loyally behind its owner.

Rachel beamed when she turned and caught sight of the blonde. "Hello, beautiful!" She cried, waving her hand toward her home.

Quinn rolled her eyes, her scowl still firmly in place as she flicked the other woman off.

Rachel's smile faltered but she quickly shook it off. "Such a kidder! Come on, Misery."

Quinn watched through tired eyes as the two disappeared into the barn.

 

* * *

 

The bell over the front door chimed loudly as Sam strode purposefully into the main store in town. "Hey Burt."

"Sam." The older man said with a small nod.

"Could I ask you a few questions?" Sam asked, making his way over to the large glass coolers to grab a soda.

"Sure thing."

"Do you have any new books in by Quinn Fabray?" He asked, closing the door once he had made his selection.

"Mhmm, we did have a batch. Sold out in three days, here... I'll ring you up."

Sam smiled and approached the counter, sitting his drink down to grab his wallet.

"You wouldn't know if Rachel Wilkes bought one of them, would you?"

Burt's eyebrows flew up at that, "Are you kidding? Every time that Lady writes a new book, she has me set aside the first hard and soft cover copies."

Sam nodded and pursed his lips, "Has she bought anything... Odd, lately?" He asked, his soda opening with a hiss of carbonation.

"Same old stuff for the most part... Although, come to think of it, there was _something_."

Sam sipped his drink quietly and waited for the other man to continue.

"She did pick up two packs of paper and a dusty old typewriter."

"Huh. Nothing odd about that, thanks Burt. I'll see you later."

"Miss Wilkes done something, Sam?"

The younger man paused by the door, "I don't know. I hope not." He said before exiting the shop, tugging out his phone as he did.

It only rang once or twice before being picked up, "Hello, Sheriff's office. Deputy Anderson speaking-"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Don't you ever check who's calling?" The blonde muttered, interrupting Blaine's autopilot opening.

"Uhm, no. I guess I don't."

"Well, you should try it sometime." Sam added with a laugh as he tugged open the door to his truck, drink tucked under his arm.

"Where's Santana? I need to talk to her."

"She's out getting an early lunch, she needed a break. Quinn's dick of a husband is refusing to come and get her things."

Sam shook his head, "Alright. I'll give her cell a try. When you see her, just make sure she knows that I am heading out of town for a bit."

"To where?"

"The Wilkes farm, apparently Rachel Wilkes is a big fan of Quinn's."

Blaine gasped, "Wait and you think she might have found her?"

"I don't know." Sam confessed, "But it's worth looking into... She is one of the only people who that still lives on that mountain year round."

"I'll let San know as soon as she gets in, let me know when you're leaving her place."

"Will do. Don't get Santana too excited with details until I talk to you, though."

"Yes, sir!" Blaine chirped before they ended the call.

Once he was off of the phone, Sam began his drive out of town and up the mountain roads. A half an hour later he was veering off of the asphalt and onto a worn path through what remained of the snow that lead to the Wilkes farm.

Quinn looked up suddenly as the loud roar of an engine approached. Her eyes widened when she saw Sam's slate gray pick up approaching.

She removed her arm from her sling and wheeled herself closer to the window as the truck drew closer.

The blonde had been so intently focused on the window that she hadn't heard Rachel approaching until it was too late.

The brunette was on her in seconds, once again jamming a needle into her arm before she could fight her off.

Quinn ignored the pinch in her arm and locked her fingers tightly around the other woman's neck. Rachel gasped, struggling to catch her breath as the blonde's fingers twitched tighter.

Unfortunately, within seconds Quinn's eyes were rolling back. Her fingers loosened slowly as the drug pumped through her veins.

Rachel quickly removed the hand from her throat before wheeling the other woman into the hallway.

Quinn's head lulled back, her fight leaving her as Sam's truck pulled down the last part of Rachel's 'driveway.'

"I will _never_ understand you. I cook your meals, I tend to you all hours of the day and you continue to fight me." Rachel mumbled, pushing her hand against the wall that sat behind the steps that lead to her second floor.

The wall gave under the pressure of her palm before popping out, a hidden doorway appearing suddenly.

"When are we going to develop a sense of trust?" Rachel asked, undoing the leg supports to Quinn's chair before lowering them.

The brunette hoisted Quinn over her shoulder with a grunt, adrenaline boosting her strength as she carried the woman down the basement steps. She laid Quinn down on her back, lingering for a moment.

"If you want him to live, you'll keep quiet." She warned between heavy, panting breaths.

She quickly made her way up the steps, breaking down the wheelchair the rest of the way as Sam's door slammed shut outside.

Once she had the wheelchair tucked away, Rachel moved quickly to the front door. She pulled it open, bringing a hand to her chest when she noticed Sam so close. "Oh my."

The blonde faltered, his hand still raised to knock. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to startle you."

"I guess you can tell from my reaction that I am not used to getting visitors. Please, come in."

Sam smiled and stepped inside, instantly relieved by the shift of temperature.

"It has been ages! What can I do for you, Samuel?" Rachel asked as they made their way into the living room.

"It has. I was wondering if you knew anything about Quinn Fabray?" Sam asked as his eyes scanned the room, missing the way Rachel's eyes darkened slightly at the question.

"What would you like to know?"

"Anything you could tell me, that might help our investigation." Sam said, his eyebrows rising slightly as he looked back to the brunette.

"Well, she was born February first in Lima, Ohio. Thirty two years ago. The second daughter of Russell and Judy Fabray-"

"Well, that isn't exactly what I had in mind. You are aware that Miss Fabray has been missing for quite some time?"

"Yes, yes... I am aware. It is so _heartbreaking._ I am her number one fan. I have all of her books, every sentence she ever put down. I am so proud of my Quinn Fabray collection."

Sam's lips quirked into a nervous smile and he gave a small nod. He watched as Rachel lifted her hand to play with the gold cross necklace that lay over her turtle neck sweater.

"Aren't you Jewish?" He asked suddenly, without thinking.

The woman cocked her head to the side slightly before realization dawned on her and she released the necklace with a chuckle.

"I was or well, my Fathers were. I have studied several religions and have found that Christianity is the closest fit to my personal beliefs."

"Oh, alright. I was just wondering, the necklace looks good on you."

Rachel blushed slightly and waved the compliment off. "Now, now... A married man like you did not come all of the way up here to compliment me."

Sam chuckled and nodded, "Yes, you got me. Strictly a work visit. Mind if I take a look around?"

"Of course you can." Rachel said, following the man as he walked toward the dining room. "The news of the accident almost killed me, too. I prayed when I heard the news. I got down on my knees and _begged_ for it not to be true."

Sam nodded but remained silent as he paused by Rachel's collection of Misery novels.

"You are probably going to think that I am crazy... But while I was praying," She paused by the shelf, her hand stroking the cover of the nearest book. "God told me to get ready."

Sam's brows furrowed and he reluctantly met the brunette's gaze.

"Get ready for what?"

"To be her replacement." Rachel said, without hesitation. "She gave so much happiness to so many people... There is a shortage of happiness these days."

Sam hummed in agreement, quickly moving into the hallway, Rachel right behind him.

"God told me that because I was her number one fan... It was my duty to continue her work."

She watched closely as the man peeked into her walk in closet. Sweat was beginning to build on the back of her neck, they were too close to the basement door. Although she knew she was being ridiculous, she felt that he would see the wall and _know_. Or maybe Quinn, hearing the footsteps, would make some sort of noise to alert him.

Rachel shook her head, smiling as he looked back toward her and closed the door.

"I bought a typewriter and paper to type on-" She paused as he stuck his head quickly into the kitchen. "I even turned my guest bedroom into my writing studio. Would you like to see it?" She asked, raising her voice slightly to catch his attention.

"Sure." He said, moving back down the hallway after her.

Quinn stirred downstairs, her eyes fluttering open as footsteps passed above.

Sam couldn't help but smile at the way Rachel beamed proudly in her makeshift studio.

"I know how she wrote... The kinds of words that she used, the wonderful stories she told. I spent the last four months trying to write like Quinn Fabray." She sighed heavily, her fingers tracing the keys of the typewriter. "I cannot seem to get it right. I try and try but it's just not the same."

Sam glanced down at his booted feet, "Well, maybe it just takes a while to get the hang of it."

Rachel chewed on her lip thoughtfully for a moment before reaching for the written pages of Misery's Return laid out on the desk.

"I could give you what I have written and you could let me know what you think?" She asked hopefully, holding them out toward the man.

He shook his head quickly, "No, thank you. I'm not much of a critic."

Rachel shrugged, "Well, it was worth a shot. How about you go take a look upstairs and I will brew you some coffee."

Sam nodded, relieved to be able to look around without her shadowing his every move.

"I'll be up in a moment, there is already some made. I just need to warm it up for you."

Sam made his way quickly up the steps, wanting to get a chance to look around before she joined him.

Quinn groaned, her eyes peeking open again at the sound of Sam making his way up the stairs. She tried to lift her arm but the limb only moved an inch or two before falling back to the floor.

The blonde whimpered, wanting to cry out and warn the man of what the lunatic giving him a tour was capable of.

Sam quickly cleared the two rooms upstairs. One was a full bathroom and the other was Rachel's bedroom.

He lingered a little longer in the latter but found nothing that would suggest Quinn being present in the brunette's home. He shook his head with a frown as his eyes did one last sweep.

He had been so sure that he was on to something, especially after he arrived and learned of Rachel's obsession.

A floorboard creaked behind him and Sam jumped slightly as he turned. "Oh my, I am sorry! I did not mean to startle you." Rachel said quickly, her cheeks darkening. "Here is your coffee."

"Thank you, Rachel. But I should really be going... I don't want to take up anymore of your time. Thank you for your cooperation." Sam said, moving passed her to make his way back down the steps.

"You did not have any of your coffee..." Rachel said, following closely behind him.

"I'm sure it is good but I really should be getting back to town. Still on the clock. It was nice seeing you again though, take care."

Rachel was about to respond when an odd sound, halfway between a whimper and a wail interrupted her.

"What was that?" Sam asked, leaning around the woman to try to get a better look down the hallway.

"Oh, it must have been my cat... She's a Siamese, they make such bizarre sounds, don't they?"

"Cat? I didn't see any cat..."

Rachel chewed on the inside of her cheek, "She's not fond of strangers, probably got herself stuck somewhere trying to hide. Silly thing."

"Oh, I see." Sam mumbled, his eyes still trained somewhere passed Rachel. "Would you like me to help you find her?"

"Oh, heavens no! Thank you for the offer but that would only scare her more."

"Alright... I'll leave you to it then. Good luck."

Rachel nodded, smiling politely as he walked out onto the porch before closing the door behind him.

Sam lingered in front of the door, scratching at his chin. He may not have been very familiar with cats but Brittany had one for years. He had only known the feline briefly but when he would visit his girlfriend's apartment it was always obvious that she had a cat. Even if the animal itself was not visible, its toys, bowls and litter boxes were.

He walked down the steps of the porch slowly, pausing as he stepped down from the last one.

A loud crash came from inside and his heart kick started in his chest.

Sam was torn between turning to go back up and check what the noise was and going to his truck for his gun. Deciding that the latter was the safer option, he moved quickly for his vehicle.

He had just unlocked his door when a piercing pain seared through his chest.

The man glanced down, his mouth releasing a breathy gasp as his lips parted. The long metal prongs of a pitchfork extended from his torso.

He grunted as he was whipped around on the tool before being tossed harshly to the ground.

Sam struggled to catch his breath, wheezing and gurgling as he turned toward the approaching brunette. She had already pierced one, maybe both of his lungs. If he didn't move quickly, she would surely kill him.

"Rachel, what are y-you doing?" He gasped out, holding his arm up as she stood over him.

Her eyes were cold and dark, in a way he had only seen in pictures. "I won't let you have her. She's mine." She bit out, raking the sharpened tips of the pitchfork against his forearm.

Sam cried out in pain, lowering his arm instinctively as his flesh and jacket were cut to shreds.

His world went black as Rachel hit him over the back of the skull with the long handle.

 

* * *

 

"Trouty isn't back yet?" Santana asked as she strode back into the warmth of their building. Blaine frowned, shaking his head as he glanced toward his watch.

"No, he isn't. He wanted me to let you know that he went out of town to check up on a lead he got."

"Lead? What lead? He didn't have specifics earlier, where did he go?"

"The Wilkes' farm."

"And he hasn't called?" Blaine shook his head again, his frown deepening.

"How long has he been gone, Anderson?"

"About an hour and a half... You don't think...?"

"If there was nothing to see, he would have been back by now. I'm going to call Brittany and make sure he isn't with her if he doesn't answer. If he's not, I'm going up there myself."

 

* * *

 

Quinn's eyes stared unblinkingly at the ceiling as hot tears tracked down her cheeks.

She was an idiot, Rachel had warned her and she hadn't listened. Now Sam was in danger and it was all her fault.

Truth be told, she hadn't heard much of what had happened. She wasn't even entirely sure it was over. There was only silence, heart breaking and deafening silence.

She knew for a fact that Sam was still here, having never heard the engine of his truck roar back to life. She had also heard talking but it was mostly too quiet to hear.

Quinn's eyes flicked toward the small window as a loud sound roared into existence. It was an engine of some sort but it did not belong to either of the two trucks on the property.

Suddenly, Quinn's eyes widened as it dawned on her. She hissed, struggling to sit up as her heart pounded in her ears.

Meanwhile, outside, Sam groaned and cracked his eyes open slowly. He was extremely disoriented and shocked to still be alive.

The metallic taste of blood had his stomach twisting painfully. His limbs were heavy and his head was pounding, especially with the loud noise that was growing ever closer.

He glanced in the direction of the sound and felt his heart clench with fear.

Rachel was quickly approaching on a large riding mower, pitchfork in hand. The brunette's jaw was set firmly and her eyes were cold, almost lifeless.

A harsh scream tore itself from Sam's punctured lungs and he coughed and sputtered on the last of it.

The man dug his fingers into the grass and tried to stand but found that he had been stabbed in the legs as well. He hissed in pain, rising onto unsteady feet before limping toward his truck. He tried the door but to his horror, found that it had already been relocked.

Sam slammed his palms against the glass before catching sight of Rachel in the reflection, the brunette's arm was raised and the pitchfork was aimed for him.

The man swore loudly, dropping to the ground before rolling underneath of his truck.

There was a soft thud just to the left of him as Rachel's weapon sunk into the ground.

"Oh, come now, Samuel. Don't you want to play?" She asked, raising her voice so that she could be heard over the engine.

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" The man cried, seconds later he jumped. Nearly hitting his head on the undercarriage of his truck as his cell phone blared in his pocket.

He fumbled for the device, struggling to catch his breath as he did so.

His trembling fingers had just tugged the phone free when he cried out in pain and rolled off of his back and away from Rachel. The pitchfork had found his side but it had barely broken skin from the odd angle she had used to prod at him.

He abandoned his phone, instead rolling out from under the vehicle to try and make a run for the house.

Things seemed to slow suddenly as a shot rang out and Sam shook his head inwardly.

_'She locked the truck, of course she grabbed the gun.'_

He screamed, falling back to the ground as a bullet tore through his left thigh just above the knee.

Rachel clicked her tongue at the man and tucked the pistol back into the waistline of her pants once she was sure the safety was on. "Where do you think you're going, Samuel?"

Sam remained silent and instead put his energy into crawling but it was no use. He cried out a strangled sob, his lungs burning as the mower blades ran over his heels and the rest of his feet.

Leather, flesh and bone was obliterated as Rachel pushed passed before turning to come back around.

Sam couldn't hear it but his phone was ringing again, Santana's name flashing urgently on the screen.

His teeth chattered as his body slipped into shock and he buried his face in his arms. It was over. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing the pain or terror on his face.

He smiled slightly through the pain as he smelled the earth beneath him and thought of Brittany. At least she was safe, she and their baby.

"Please, don't make her see me this way..." He whispered weakly before the sharp blades of the mower met his arm and shoulder.

Quinn covered her face with her hands, sobbing at the loud, painful cries of a man she thought of as a friend.

She sucked in deep breath, quieting slightly as the screams ended and the engine sputtered to a stop.

She heard the front door being thrown open harshly before Rachel's heavy footsteps echoed over head.

"Do you see what you made me do?!" She shrieked. Quinn fought down the urge to gag when she noticed the blood splattered on the other woman's face.

"It's over, _everything_ is ruined." Rachel said from the top of the steps. She ran an unsteady hand through her hair as she paced back and forth.

Quinn felt her heart drop into her stomach as the woman pulled Sam's pistol from her jeans. "You made me do this, Quinn. It's all _your_ fault." The brunette mumbled, stepping down onto the first step.

The blonde's mind began to kick into survival mode as she heard the safety being clicked off. Her eyes glanced around, looking for something, _anything_ that she could use to defend herself.

They paused momentarily on the metal container of liquid accelerant Rachel had used when she was forced to burn her manuscript.

"I won't let them take you from me..." Rachel mumbled, cocking the gun as she reached the middle of the steps.

Quinn looked back to the brunette, a plan forming quickly in her mind. Now all she needed was time.

"I don't want that either, Rachel."

Rachel paused, a small smile twitched to her lips and her dead eyes met Quinn's. "If I can't have you, no one will."

"No one will have me but you." Quinn promised. "But we have the opportunity to leave something behind, Rachel. Our legacy."

The brunette's eyes widened, "The book?"

Quinn nodded, watching the other woman closely. "Yes. Misery must live." She said slowly, smiling inwardly as Rachel gave a small nod of agreement.

"Yes. She must live. You and I will die, together. As soon as the book is complete."

Quinn gulped and hoped that it wasn't obvious enough for the brunette to notice. "Yes... Together." She said slowly, watching as Rachel disappeared back upstairs.

While Rachel moved around on the first floor, Quinn stretched out her arm to grab the accelerant. She wasn't sure if she would need it but it couldn't hurt to have.

Rachel appeared at the top of the steps with the blonde's wheelchair a few minutes later.

Quinn bit her bottom lip to muffle a whimper as Rachel lifted her from the floor. The brunette frowned as the other woman adjusted herself in her arms. "Don't move or I'm going to drop you." She warned, her voice sharp.

Quinn obeyed silently, releasing a small sigh of relief when she was set down gently in the chair.

"I'm going to clean up... You go work on your writing, Quinn."

The blonde nodded and made her way down the hallway to her room. She had contemplated trying the front door but was almost certain that Rachel still had the gun. Not to mention, she wouldn't be able to make it off of the porch in her chair.

Quinn wheeled herself closer to her desk and made the mistake of looking out of the window. She gagged and covered her mouth as she turned away.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" Rachel asked, pausing by the door. "His skull has my mower blades all bent up..."

Quinn stared at her incredulously as she wiped her hands off with a paper towel calmly, as if a body, the body of a deputy no less, wasn't practically sitting on the steps of her porch. The white of the towel was stained a reddish brown and the blonde could clearly see that she had already cleaned the blood splatter from her face.

Rachel sighed suddenly, "I'm going to go clean him up now. Get typing, Quinn." The brunette pulled the door shut before locking it quickly.

Quinn listened as the other woman made her way outside before making her way over, without looking, to close the curtains.

 

* * *

 

"Dammit Sam, what did you do?" Santana muttered, keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of an accident. In all honesty, she expected to find him along the side of the road. Grinning goofily by a broken down truck. Knowing the man the way that she did, he probably would have stubbornly tried to fix it himself and left his phone in the cab. It was no longer ringing so she guessed that it might have died, after the repeated attempts to reach him it seemed like a likely scenario.

She frowned as she pulled onto the long, unpaved drive that led to the Wilkes farm. To be honest, she had never liked Rachel Wilkes or Berry, as Sam had pointed out once. But she didn't believe that the woman was capable of the things that she had been accused of.

And even if she was, killing babies was completely different than trying something on a grown man.

Santana narrowed her eyes as the house came into view. She immediately noticed the disturbed ground in front of the home as well as the tire marks.

"Well, he _was_ here..." She mused, putting her truck into park.

Stepping down from her vehicle, the brunette noted that the ground was on the softer side. All of the melting snow and rain had left it saturated. She walked forward toward the disturbed ground, brow furrowing when she noted a darker patch of grass.

"What the fuck?" She asked aloud, kneeling down to get a closer look. She swallowed thickly as she realized that the darker shade was blood, chips of bone and what appeared to be flesh and brain matter standing out against the darkened mess.

Santana glanced over her shoulder, back toward the tire tracks. She was confused to see that they did not suggest that Sam had left.

Given it was getting late in the afternoon and there were no signs of movement from the house, Santana decided that she would check out the property first.

She followed the tire tracks toward the barn and around the back, her hand twitching instinctively. It hovered over her holster as she peeked carefully around the edge of the building.

The tire tracks continued way passed the barn and into the woods.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes peeled as she stepped around the barn completely. It didn't make sense, she couldn't see any reason for her deputy to have gone back into the woods.

Santana's eyes narrowed when they noticed a parked mower, she approached it curiously.

It was still faintly warm despite sitting in the shade and appeared to have been hosed off recently.

The brunette set her jaw and turned back toward the house. She wanted answers and she wanted them now. Her hand rested firmly on her holster as she pushed her aviators back up on her nose.

Santana was walking up toward the porch when she noticed something that stole the breath from her lungs.

One of the curtains that had been drawn in the bay window looking over the front yard was pulled back. The blonde behind the glass was staring at her with a equal level of shock and had a hand pressed over her mouth. She appeared to be crying and Santana finally reclaimed the control of her body. She raced up the steps of the porch to the front door, frowning deeply when she found that it was locked.

She slammed her fist heavily against the door, wishing in that moment that she could tear it off of its hinges to get to the woman inside.

Digging her wallet out of her pocket quickly, the brunette dug out an old credit card to attempt one of her tricks. Luckily, Rachel had only locked the door knob since she had taken the bobby pin from Quinn.

Santana grinned, tears prickling at her eyes happily as she pushed the door open.

"Santana? Is that really you?" Quinn asked through the last barrier between the two of them.

"Yeah baby, it's me. Stand back, okay? I'll be in there in a second." Santana waited a beat before speaking again. "You out of the way?"

"Yes." Quinn said, her voice straining with emotion.

Santana set her jaw and brought her booted foot up quickly before landing a solid kick to the door. There was a loud thud followed by the sound of splintering wood as the door buckled inward.

As soon as the door was open, Santana rushed to the blonde's side.

She knelt down next to the chair, her eyes sweeping over the other woman's body.

"Are you okay?" She asked, brushing her thumbs across Quinn's flushed cheeks. The chair bound woman shook her head and leaned into the brunette's touch.

"What's wrong?"

"Sam..." Quinn choked out, closing her eyes as guilt twisted her stomach.

Santana's eyes widened and she leaned in closer. "What about him, Quinn? You saw him?"

Quinn nodded and turned away from her lover. "He's dead." She said quietly, her voice surprisingly even.

Santana remained silent a second, trying to absorb the information. "How...? I-I just saw him earlier, he was fine..." She said in disbelief, her heart breaking at the thought of having to tell Brittany.

"She killed him... With a mower."

Santana felt her mind go blank as everything came together suddenly, it was too much at once.

"Where is she?" She asked quietly, swallowing her nausea.

"I-I don't know... She moved the mower and then put his body in the truck and drove off. I didn't- I couldn't watch... I'm sorry."

Santana rose to her feet and squeezed the blonde's hand gently. "Shh... It's not your fault. Let's get you out of here, okay?" She said, her expression slipping into an unreadable mask.

"She is not going anywhere."

Santana whipped her head around quickly, her eyes narrowing on the shorter brunette.

"You bitch!" She cried, rushing toward the other woman. Within seconds, Santana had Rachel off of her feet by her sweater and was slamming her into the door frame.

Rachel hissed through clenched teeth but smirked once the initial pain dissipated.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Sam Evans and the kidnapping of Quinn Fabray." She said, reaching toward where her handcuffs were fixed to the back of her belt.

"Arrest? You're going to _arrest_ me?" The other brunette asked with amusement, her dark eyes flicking toward Quinn. "That nickname makes so much sense now, Quinn. I should have recognized the Sheriff's truck. How foolish of me."

"Nickname?" Santana asked, tightening her grip on the other woman because of the way she was looking at the blonde.

"Oh, yes... Quinn got drunk one night at dinner and mistook me for you... She's quite skilled with that tongue of hers-"

Rachel's smug smile disappeared as Santana's fist landed a heavy blow to her jaw. She turned back to goad the enraged woman further when Santana landed another blow to the lower portion of her face.

Rachel licked the blood from her split lip as Santana breathed heavily and tried to control her temper.

"Santana, she isn't worth it..." Quinn said softly, wheeling a little closer to the two.

The Sheriff nodded after a moment, bringing her right hand back again for her handcuffs.

It all happened so quickly, Quinn tried to yell but the sound caught in her throat. She watched in horror as Rachel jabbed a needle into Santana's bicep. The taller brunette cried out in pain, releasing the woman and ripping the needle from her arm.

Santana managed to land two more hits before the drug took affect, her legs wobbled and she staggered.

"Stay there, Quinn. Or I will slit her throat." Rachel warned, supporting the taller woman as she began to slip into unconsciousness.

"Go to the desk, now." She ordered, bringing her collapsible hunting knife to Santana's throat. "Cuff your chair to it, I don't want you trying anything while I deal with her."

Quinn glared at her captor but did as she was told. She watched warily as Rachel placed the knife on the floor before lowering Santana to the chair she had brought in to read Misery's Return.

"What are you going to do to her?" Quinn asked softly, watching as Rachel took out Santana's second pair of handcuffs and cuffed the woman's hands behind her back. Rachel stood up, folding her blade back into its hilt.

"Nothing... Yet." She said, raising her eyes to meet the blonde's.

 

 

 

* * *

  
_I see you_   
_Opening your mouth_   
_I see you_   
_Absent of doubt_   
_I see you_   
_Will never forget_   
_The night your life was mine to collect..._

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

_x_

_And oh, how I liked you_   
_You were my very own_   
_Oh, how I liked you_   
_As I covered you with stones..._

_x_

"How close are you to finishing, Quinn?" Rachel asked as she made her way into the blonde's room. She frowned, noting the way the chair bound woman had to twist back around to face the type writer.

"Close, maybe another hour or two."

Rachel moved closer, her fingertips tracing across the most recently finished page. "You are stalling."

Quinn blinked, "No... I'm just stuck. You can't rush this kind of thing."

The brunette chuckled lowly and glanced over her shoulder toward Santana's slumped form. "You are lying, _she_ is distracting you."

Quinn stiffened, the comment putting her teeth on edge. "No..."

"Do _not lie_ to me, Quinn." Rachel said firmly, her eyes darkening. "You need to work faster. I am sure her other deputy... Oh, whatever was his name?"

"Anderson. His name is Blaine Anderson and you're right. He will come for us, with back up."

Rachel turned toward the woman she had previously thought to be unconscious, a smile tugging at her lips. "I suppose it is a good thing I have you as a hostage then, hmm?" She whispered, moving closer to Santana.

The other brunette watched her approach warily, her dark eyes still glazed from the drug in her veins.

Santana made a small grunt of disapproval as Rachel grabbed her chin and she tried to turn her head away so that the other woman couldn't get a good look at her face. The fingers holding her tightened, almost to a bruising intensity.

Rachel's smile twitched wider as she forced the Sheriff's chin back up, her thumb slowly tracing Santana's full bottom lip.

"What do _you_ have that I do not?" She whispered, her eyes sweeping over the other woman's exotic features. "Darker skin? Fuller breasts and lips?"

Santana curled her upper lip into a sneer but remained silent as Quinn shifted awkwardly across the room.

"Rachel, it isn't-"

Quinn fell silent as Rachel held up her hand, her eyes still searching Santana's. "Say what you are thinking, _Sheriff_."

"It might have something to do with the fact that I'm not bat-shit cra-"

A loud crack cut off the rest of her response as Rachel's hand met her cheek harshly. The angry woman turned on her heel, her jaw set. "Write faster, Quinn. You need to finish before our time together is _cut short_."

Her eyes flicked back toward a now silently seething Santana, "And if you cannot focus, I will find a way to _motivate_ you to do so."

Quinn watched silently as Rachel stalked out of the room before looking toward the other brunette. Santana's chin was tilted down and her eyes were turned away from the blonde.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? I'd rather she hit me than you." Santana said, her features softening as she finally brought her eyes up to meet the other woman's. "What does she have you writing? Why is it so important?"

Quinn chewed her lip, "You remember my last published novel, Misery's Child?" Santana nodded but was still clearly confused. "Rachel didn't like that Misery died... She's having me write another Misery novel to correct my... Mistake."

"...Okay, why's she so concerned that you finish it? She isn't in here, reading them as you type." The woman muttered, becoming more awake with each passing second.

"She was, it's just the smaller stack that she has to read. And then..."

"And then...?" Santana asked slowly, not liking the way Quinn was now avoiding eye contact.

"And then, when it's finished... She wants us to die, _together_."

Santana breathed in harshly, her eyes going wide. "What the fuck is wrong with her? I knew that she was strange... And they always say to _watch the quiet ones_ but I wasn't expecting her to be _this_ sick."

The room fell silent then and Quinn turned back to the type writer to resume writing. She typed for several minutes before she and Santana looked toward the door at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Rachel strode back into the room, her heels clicking loudly against the hardwood. "How much have you written, Quinn?"

"Not much, Rachel... You haven't been gone that long."

The shorter brunette pursed her lips and approached the desk, her eyes scanning what little had been typed in her absence. "This is _unacceptable_."

"I told you that I was stuck..."

"More lies! I heard the two of you talking when you should have been _typing_." Quinn's throat tightened as Rachel left her side to approach Santana. "I did warn you, Quinn."

"Don't, _please_!" The blonde begged as she saw the standing brunette slip an unidentifiable object from the waist of her jeans.

Rachel tutted in amusement, "I will not kill her, yet... In fact, _I_ will not be doing anything to her." The woman said, smiling as she stroked Santana's hair gently. "You will."

Quinn paled visibly and her hands trembled against her arm rests. "W-what?"

With one hand still hidden behind her, Rachel took her free hand to her hip pocket of her jeans. "Unlock yourself and come here, Quinn." She ordered quietly, tossing the key to the blonde.

Quinn caught it on reflex, surprised that her now clammy hands were even capable of it. She unlocked the cuff that was connected to the bottom bar of the armrest of her chair. Once the metal pieces were separated, she hesitantly moved closer to the brunettes.

The blonde's stomach twisted as Rachel revealed a wicked pair of garden shears. She handed the shears to Quinn before turning Santana's chair slightly, to give her better access to her hands. The chain of the Sheriff's handcuffs had been weaved through the rungs that made up the back support of the chair, keeping her in place.

Santana set her jaw, her fingers twitching together as Rachel's ghosted over them.

"Which would you miss the most...?" The other woman whispered, almost too quietly for the others to hear.

Santana did her best to ignore the other brunette and instead kept her eyes on Quinn.

"What do you think? Should we leave her with her ability to shoot? I feel like I do not know her well enough to think that she deserves to lose you _and_ her job if I let her live. That seems a bit cruel."

The blonde blinked, raising her eyes to meet those of the woman standing over her.

"I- I can't." Quinn stuttered, her fingers trembling against the handle of the shears.

"You can."

The blonde's eyes flew back to Santana, shocked by the calmly spoken words. Her heart stuttered in her chest as a loud click came from Rachel's direction.

"You will." The other brunette said firmly, making sure Quinn could see the gun in her hand.

"Please, Quinn..." Santana pleaded, almost too quietly for the blonde to hear.

Quinn lifted the shears slowly, trying to calm her trembling hands as she raised the metal to tan fingers. Her eyes immediately narrowed in on Santana's right pinky.

Reaching out, Quinn tucked the rest of the woman's fingers into a fist. She could feel Santana tensing under her hand and she swallowed thickly.

"I'm sorry." She whispered quickly before squeezing her hand and bringing the blades together. There was a sickening crunch and a little resistance as metal met bone before cutting through.

Santana's body was rigid and trembling slightly, her remaining knuckles tight as her severed digit fell to the floor.

She was quiet for a moment before a whimper escaped her clenched teeth. The sound quickly escalated into an ear splitting scream and she cried out several more times before slumping forward more in her chair.

Quinn stared wide eyed at Santana's bleeding hand, the shears falling to the floor loudly when she realized what she had just done. She reached toward the other woman but Rachel stopped her.

"No, no, Quinn. You have a book to finish. If you continue to defy me and not work... Well, she has nine more to lose." Rachel warned, "Key." She said, holding her hand out to the blonde.

Quinn collected the small key from in between her legs and glared at Rachel before wheeling herself back over to the desk.

"Cuff yourself again, we can not have you roaming around while I am patching her up."

Quinn rolled her eyes but did as she was told, her eyes watching Santana sadly as she did.

Rachel bent down quickly to retrieve the shears and severed finger, her gun and the key already tucked away. "I will be back momentarily." She said, pausing in front of Santana. "Do not worry, this will not go to waste... You see, while I do not eat meat... My sow, Misery, does. She has never been a very picky eater."

Santana glared up through the veil of hair that covered her face, her body still trembling. "Fuck you."

Rachel's expression immediately darkened from one of amusement to rage. "Watch how you speak to me, or I will feed it to _you_." She warned, stepping closer.

Santana's nose wrinkled in disgust as her severed finger was pushed roughly against her lips, smearing blood across them.

Rachel withdrew her hand, bringing the pinky with her before stomping out of the room.

Quinn sat rigid in her chair, hand pressed over her mouth as Santana exhaled slowly from her nose.

"I'm so sorry..." The blonde whispered, quietly enough that she knew Rachel would not overhear.

"Don't be. You did what you had to, I'm _alive_." Santana whispered back. The words eased Quinn's guilt a little but the way the brunette kept her eyes on the wall instead of meeting her own twisted her stomach into knots.

 

* * *

 

"Progress, Quinn?" Rachel asked, striding into the room with a tray clutched between her hands.

"It's finished."

"What?"

"I just finished, a moment ago." The blonde elaborated, patting the stack of paper to the left of the typewriter.

Rachel moved closer, setting down the tray to trace the print herself. "I have your wine and cigarettes here, Quinn." The brunette said in awe, her eyes still tracing the lines of words gracing the top page.

"Only missing one thing..."

"Hmm?" Rachel hummed, blinking before raising her eyes to meet the blonde's.

"We'll need _two_ glasses." Quinn said, pointedly looking between Rachel and the tray.

"O-oh, really?" The brunette asked, almost shyly.

Quinn nodded, "Of course. This is as much your book as it is mine."

Rachel's cheeks darkened and she chuckled happily. "Yes, I suppose this is true. I will be right back."

Santana watched the exchange closely and leaned forward a bit when she was sure Rachel was well down the hallway. "You lied, you only wrote a few pages... What are you up to?" She asked quietly, Quinn placed a finger to her lips.

"Getting us out of this." She whispered back, sliding a drawer open as quietly as possible. She retrieved the accelerant from the drawer, a match from the tray and rolled the last few pages of the manuscript into a cone shape.

Quinn wet the paper a little and lit the match against the desk just as Rachel reappeared.

"Quinn! What are you doing?" Rachel gasped, pausing wide eyed in the doorway.

"Let us go or I'll burn it." Quinn warned, "Then you and no one else will ever know if Misery ever remembers Ian, if she can learn to love him again... Or if she falls in love with someone new."

"No!" Rachel cried, lunging forward. Quinn shook her head and lit the pages before tossing them to the floor. Rachel fell to her knees beside Quinn, ignoring the blonde as she tried to put out the flames.

Quinn set her jaw and reached over quickly to grab the typewriter. She held the heavy device up over the brunette's head before bringing it down on the back of her skull.

Rachel slumped forward after the heavy impact, successfully smothering the flames with her body. Quinn crawled from her chair, ignoring the pain in her legs as she dragged her body toward the brunette's prone form. Rachel was breathing shallowly and a dark puddle began to pool beneath her head as blood rushed from the gash inflicted by the typewriter.

Moving quickly, Quinn grabbed Rachel's gun and partially turned the other woman over to fish the key from the front pocket of her jeans.

"Good job, baby." Santana said, extremely proud of the blonde's quick thinking. "Grab my carabiner too, please, so we can get the hell out of here."

Quinn smiled weakly, unclipping the larger collection of keys from Rachel's jeans before crawling toward the other brunette. Her arms burned and her legs ached but she closed the distance before pushing herself into a seated position beside Santana.

Her smile fell when she saw Santana's still bleeding hand. Rachel had sarcastically placed a band-aid over the injury after Santana's outburst. Most of the blood had dried but it was clear that there was some fresh blood still trickling out over the saturated bandage.

Quinn shook her head and focused so that she could make quick work of the lock. The handcuffs opened with a click and Santana brought her hands around to her front. She instantly regretted the decision and rose onto unsteady legs so that she could distract herself from the sight of her hand.

She knelt down beside Quinn and gently picked her up bridal style. "Hold on to me, I'll get you out of here. We'll call for back up in the truck, okay?"

Quinn nodded and that was all Santana needed to move for the front door. She paused just in front of it and Quinn leaned forward to unlock and open it. The blonde couldn't help but smile as the cold air hit her face, she welcomed it. She needed to leave that house, she needed to be _free_.

Santana was just stepping down from the last step of the porch when a sound from behind them made both women's blood run cold.

"Shoot her!" Santana said quickly, glancing over her shoulder as Rachel stumbled out onto the porch.

Quinn raised her arms to aim as Rachel rushed forward, her hunting knife clutched tightly in her right hand. The blonde frowned when the trigger refused to move.

"I think it's jammed, it won't fire!" She cried as she continued to fumble around with the firearm, Santana swore under her breath, unable to look down to help because she was trying to keep an eye on Rachel.

Rachel sneered and laughed when the other brunette stumbled slightly on a divot in the grass, she slowed down and struggled to regain her balance.

The approaching brunette looked like she was straight out of a horror film. Blood clung to her hair and face and a good portion of her sweater was blackened and burned through.

"Check the chamber, Quinn." Santana said through grit teeth, her body slowing as her adrenaline began to wear off.

"I don't-"

"Just like I showed you." Santana encouraged, glaring over her shoulder at Rachel.

Quinn cried out in a mixture of pain and surprise as Santana's body lurched forward suddenly and she was dropped roughly to the ground.

Her heart sank when she looked up in time to see Rachel ripping her knife from the taller brunette's back. Santana screamed in pain but continued to fight despite the blood now seeping through her shirt.

Quinn looked back to the gun in her hand, whimpering in desperation as she struggled to remember what Santana had taught her about them.

Suddenly, she remembered the safety. Rachel had been switching it off and on the entire day and Santana had stressed its importance.

She quickly located the safety before flicking it off and raising the weapon to aim. She frowned and tried to get a clear shot on Rachel but the brunettes were too close.

"Push her back, Santana!" The blonde cried, readying the weapon.

The taller brunette grit her teeth, ignoring the blade that slashed across her forearm as she brought her palms roughly against Rachel's upper chest.

Once she had some room, Santana brought her booted foot heavily into Rachel's torso. The air rushed from the shorter brunette's lungs in a gasp as she staggered backwards.

Time seemed to slow then as the shots rang out, only two of the bullets found their mark but they did their job. Rachel glanced toward Quinn just before they ripped through her body. She fell to her knees, the blade slipping from her fingers as she crumpled the rest of the way to the ground.

Santana grabbed the blade, folding it away before moving back to Quinn.

"You got her, it's okay. It's over now." The brunette whispered, taking the gun from the blonde's trembling hands.

Quinn nodded, accepting the car keys as Santana kissed her forehead before scooping her up into strong her strong arms. The brunette walked her to the passenger side and deposited her gently in the seat before closing the door.

The woman dropped herself gingerly into the drivers seat before accepting the keys from the blonde. "Can you use the radio to call for backup while I drive?" Santana asked, the fatigue now evident in her voice and expression.

Quinn nodded, frowning as she watched the brunette's fingers tremble against the steering wheel. She tore her eyes away as the truck began to move, her hand reaching for the radio.

"Hello?" She said, pressing the button so that Blaine, or anyone else would be able to hear her.

At first, static was her only response but finally, another voice broke through. "Hello? This is deputy Anderson, who is this. Where is the Sheriff?"

Quinn choked back tears of happiness, "This is Quinn Fabray, the Sheriff is sitting right beside me."

There was a moment of silence again before the man stuttered out a shocked reply. She barely heard Santana's weak voice over his excitement.

"We need back up and an ambulance..."

Quinn nodded quickly, frowning at how quiet and weak the other woman's voice sounded.

"We're going to need backup sent to the Wilkes residence and paramedics as well."

Blaine's excitement dissipated quickly, "What happened? Is everyone alright? We're on our way, we were actually just getting ready to mobilize to investigate since we hadn't heard from the Sheriff. I will call the hospital and have them send someone over as well. Hold on, we'll be there soon."

Quinn was about to respond when the ride suddenly got very rough, she glanced over and to her horror found that Santana had passed out.

She reached over to try and grab the wheel but it was too late. They had almost reached the main road but had veered off last minute, the truck crunching to a stop as it hit a large tree.

Quinn groaned, lifting her head up from the dashboard, completely dazed from the impact.

The radio had been damaged and the hand piece was now laying somewhere on the floor. Blaine's broken voice cut in and out as he asked repeatedly if she was still there.

Quinn's eyes drifted shut as she too lost consciousness, barely hearing Blaine's promise to be there soon.

 

* * *

 

Hazel eyes fluttered open, Quinn blinked and squinted as she tried to take in her surroundings.

"Oh thank God you're awake."

The blonde glanced up groggily to see Blaine climbing into the back of the ambulance.

"Where's Santana?" She asked, panicking slightly at the other woman's absence.

"She's on her way to the hospital already so don't worry." He said, kneeling down beside her. "Quinn, I need to ask you something..."

"What?"

"Where was Rachel Wilkes when you left?"

Quinn stared at him a moment as she processed the question. "She was in the front yard, not far from the porch."

Blaine frowned but nodded, "The police are still searching the property but they haven't been able to find Miss Wilkes yet.

Quinn continued to stare, her mind going blank at the news. Before either of them could speak again, a uniformed officer knocked on the outside of the vehicle.

"We've found Miss Wilkes, she was DOA."

Blaine nodded quickly before rising to go join the man outside, "Where was she?"

"We found her in the barn, tracked a small blood trail there once we got the flood lights set up..."

Quinn's eyes widened, shocked that the brunette had gotten so far with her injuries.

"She had a large laceration to the back of her head but it appeared that the two shots to the torso sped up her bleeding to death... She was reaching for a chainsaw, sir."

Quinn shivered at the thought, that would have been quite the sight. She knew that they were trying to talk quietly so that she wouldn't overhear but she had to know.

She was so focused on her thoughts that she didn't notice Blaine approaching until he spoke.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?" He asked with a frown and she nodded. She didn't see the point in lying. "It's up to you, when you feel comfortable to talk about what happened but we will need a statement."

Quinn nodded again and raised her eyes to meet his, "I'd like to get it over with."

Blaine reached for his note pad but paused when someone called his name from outside, he patted her hand as he rose. "I'll get it once you've been checked out, alright?"

Quinn nodded and chewed on her lip, "Will I be able to see her?"

He paused by the back door of the vehicle, "I'll do what I can but no promises."

Quinn smiled and thanked him quickly before he shut the door and the vehicle roared to life.

 

* * *

 

"Thank you for your cooperation, Quinn. I am so sorry that this happened to you. But you made sure that Rachel will never hurt anyone, _ever again_."

Quinn's jaw flexed as she was reminded of what she had been forced to do. She did not regret it but it was still difficult to swallow the idea that she had taken a life.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

"Please, call me Quinn." The blonde said, flashing the man a smile as he stepped into her room.

"Nice to meet you, Quinn. I am Santana's doctor, William Schuester. I was told that you wanted to see her and seeing as you are first on her list of emergency contacts, I figured I could make an exception to our visiting hours."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Quinn said sincerely, the doctor nodded.

"One of our nurses will be in shortly with a wheelchair for you. She isn't awake yet but she could wake up at anytime. And after what you two have been through... I think she will appreciate a familiar face when she does wake." He said a quick goodbye before leaving Quinn and Blaine alone again.

"I'm going to have to head out... I need to go talk to Brittany. But before I forget, here, this is yours. We recovered it from your vehicle, it's a little banged up but it still works."

Quinn nodded, accepting her cell phone with a small smile. "Thank you. She... She won't have to see him like that, will she?"

Blaine shook his head, smiling sadly. "No. While his face was mostly intact, he still had his wallet on him so she will not be needed to I.D. the body. I just want to tell her in person, you know?"

"Yeah... I understand. I'm glad though, she shouldn't have that as her last memory of him."

Blaine nodded in agreement and waved goodbye before moving out of the doorway so that the nurse could get through with the wheelchair.

"Hello, I'm Jake." The man said, flashing her a broad smile as he wheeled the chair to her bedside. "Let's get you out of bed, shall we?"

Quinn couldn't help but smile, his bright mood infectious.

"I gather you just started your shift?" She asked as he moved her carefully but easily from the bed to the chair.

"No, ma'am. I just find a smile and a good mood goes a long way. If I can brighten even one person's day and help ease their pain... Well, I consider that a success." He said, pushing her out into the hallway.

"I see, well, you have been successful with me. Thank you, Jake."

"It was my pleasure. Here we are, if you need anything, just hit the call button by her bedside and we'll check in on you two, okay? I'll start you off with a blanket." He said, wheeling her over to Santana's bedside before popping back into the hallway.

Quinn stared at the brunette, frowning at the bruising and small cuts on the other woman's beautiful face.

They were superficial and all from the accident they'd had while escaping the farm. There were a few more small cuts lining her forearm and a large bandage covered the laceration that had been inflected with Rachel's hunting knife.

Santana's right hand had also been properly cleaned and bandaged. Her other injury, from the stabbing, was hidden from view.

"She'll be alright, she's a tough one." Jake said, approaching Quinn so that he could place the blanket over her legs and lap.

"Was it bad?"

"She lost quite a bit of blood and the stab wound did have a lot of tissue damage but most of it was superficial. Her attacker missed the important stuff." He said as he straightened back up, "She's definitely come in with worse in the past."

Quinn nodded, she had seen the scars. She knew that Santana had been shot in the past, back in her rookie days. Those injuries had almost cost the brunette her life, she had also broken many bones including her nose and several in her feet.

"Well, I'll leave you to get some rest. Remember, if you need anything you let one of us know." He said, giving her one last smile before leaving the room.

Quinn pulled the blanket up higher on her body before reaching out to grab Santana's hand. She squeezed the tan fingers inside of her own and was surprised when they flexed back.

"Why aren't you grinning for me? I'm better looking than him." A husky voice asked, bringing tears to the blonde's eyes.

"You idiot, you scared me..." Quinn mumbled, quickly wiping at her eyes with her free hand.

Santana's thumb stroked over her hand gently, "I am sorry about that. Will you let me take you shooting more now?" She asked, smiling weakly.

"Yes." Quinn promised, leaning in to kiss the brunette. It was merely a peck given she could barely reach the other woman from the confines of her chair.

"Mmnnh... No, you can't tease me with just that. I missed you." Santana grumbled, pouting cutely.

Quinn couldn't help but chuckle at the brunette. "I'm not going _anywhere_. You'll get plenty more." She said, ignoring the protesting of her legs as she leaned back in to kiss the other woman more firmly.

 

* * *

 

Quinn groaned, cracking her eyes open as her phone rang loudly. She had almost forgotten that she had turned it on last night after Santana had fallen back asleep. She had contemplated calling her parent's but knew that they had already gone to bed, she could have called Finn but decided against it. She had instead chosen to rest her upper body against the bed and get as close as possible to the brunette.

Straightening up to stretch her stiff muscles, Quinn dug the device from her pocket.

"Hello?"

"Quinn, oh darling! Thank goodness. I thought you would have called us by now, Finn says that you haven't even called him!"

The blonde stifled a yawn before responding. "Sorry, Mom. I've just been really tired and it was a lot to go through..."

"I can only imagine, Quinnie. We thought that we lost you."

As her Mother spoke, Quinn glanced toward a stirring Santana. "Now that you're awake dear, you should call Finn. He's been beside himself with worry."

Quinn chewed on her lip, "I'm not coming home, Mother. And Finn and I... I am filing for divorce."

She swallowed, knowing that the silence meant that her mother was thinking.

"Why?" The older woman asked, making her daughter sigh.

"I haven't been happy in a long time, Mother. This experience has helped me to realize that I can't keep living that way."

"Quinn, Finn is a good man. He works hard to provide for you..."

"I don't need him to provide for me, Mother. I need someone who views and treats me as an equal. He loves his job, he's got no room for _me_."

"You're acting like a child-"

"No, Mother, I'm not. I am seeing clearly for the first time in years and you cannot talk me out of it."

"Quinn, you need to think about this more before you talk to Finn."

"There's nothing to think about. I don't love him anymore, my heart belongs to someone else."

"Who is he?" Her Mother asked, almost immediately, her voice rising sharply.

" _She_ is the Sheriff who saved my life and has kept me sane the past couple of years."

"A woman? You want to leave your successful husband for some small town, _female_ Sheriff?" Judy sputtered, Quinn guessed that by now the older woman's neck and cheeks were flushed a deep red.

"She makes me happy and she appreciates me." The younger woman said firmly, ignoring the burning sensation that had begun to prickle at her eyes.

"Your Father is going to be severely disappointed in you." Judy said angrily, before ending the call without another word. Quinn released a shuddering breath as she lowered her phone to her lap.

"That was really brave." Santana said, grabbing the blonde's hand.

"I should have done it years ago... All of it."

"You can't change that now, you're doing it. That is what matters." The brunette said, smiling proudly. "I love you."

"I love you too." Quinn whispered, smiling through her tears. Now she could give herself fully to Santana and she would never have to leave her or live between two cities without her again.

 

* * *

 

After a few more tests that morning, Santana was given the okay to leave the hospital. They made a short stop by the precinct to give her statement before she drove them to Brittany's home.

"I'll be back to get you in a minute... Unless you'd rather wait in the truck?" She asked, searching Quinn's eyes as she waited for a response.

"I want to come in." Quinn said, glancing nervously toward the quaint home.

Santana rubbed her thigh soothingly, "Don't worry. She'll appreciate it, I promise. I'm going to carry your chair up first and get her attention. Then, I will be back for you." She said, giving the blonde's thigh a squeeze before exiting the vehicle.

The brunette was gone for a few minutes before she reappeared and Quinn looked up as her door was opened.

"How was she?"

"She's still in shock but... That's to be expected. It takes time."

Quinn nodded and wrapped her arms around Santana's neck as the brunette lifted her from her seat.

"Is _this_ okay?" She asked, nervous that it was too much too soon for the other woman.

Santana laughed and bumped the passenger side door shut with her hip. "You my dear," she started, kissing the blonde's temple. "Are light as a feather, so no worries."

Quinn kissed her cheek and leaned her forehead into the side of the brunette's head as she ascended the steps to the front porch. Butterflies were fluttering madly in her stomach as Brittany pulled open the door for them.

The taller blonde said nothing but stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the other women as best she could. "I'm so glad you're okay, Quinn." She whispered, giving the other blonde a teary eyed smile as she pulled away.

"It was all Sam, we wouldn't have found her in time without him." Santana said, placing Quinn down gently on the seat of her chair.

"I'm so sorry about what happened, Brittany..."

The other blonde shook her head, "Please don't apologize. He died doing something that meant everything to him. We both knew the dangers that came with his job. I hated that it was so dangerous... But he loved it, I could have never asked him to stop."

She paused a few seconds, reaching down to grab Quinn's hand. "You're alive, live to the fullest. That's how you, no, _we_ will honor his memory."

"Well said." Santana said, taking a seat on the couch. "If there's anything you need, you let us know."

Brittany nodded and took a seat beside the brunette, "Well, there is something that comes to mind immediately..."

"Anything." Quinn said sincerely, wheeling herself a little closer to the other two.

"It was something that we had been talking about for a while... We were wondering if you two would be Emma's honorary Aunts."

Quinn glanced toward Santana, unable to contain the wide smile that tugged at her lips.

"Yes." Quinn said, speaking for the both of them. Brittany smiled widely at the response before wrapping her arms tightly around Santana.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending was written by request of my girlfriend, who the story was for. The original ending can be found here, although I can't say it is really an "alternate" it just ends earlier than this one: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9353970/6/
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story!!

_Two years later..._

"Thank you for taking the time to meet me before your flight, Quinn."

"It's not a problem for us, Tina. Thank you for taking care of everything with the book while we're away." Quinn said, quietly thanking Santana as the brunette helped her take her seat. Santana propped the blonde's cane against their luggage before sitting herself.

Tina nodded, smiling and looking between the two. "The critics are raving about the new book, Quinn. You're going to be selling these out faster than any of the Misery novels."

Quinn leaned forward, accepting the first print of her new book. It was the rewrite of the manuscript Rachel forced her to burn, _Fast Cars_. It was much better than the first draft in her opinion and she couldn't have been more happy with the end result.

They chatted for a few more minutes about the book before Quinn and Santana's coffees arrived, the waitress that brought them seemed to recognize Quinn immediately. The young blonde raved about her books before mentioning she had a friend who was a huge admirer of the Misery novels. Quinn chuckled nervously and found Santana's hand under the table.

"Well... That was fun. Anyway, now that the business talk is out of the way... How are you two doing?"

A smile twitched to life on Quinn's lips and she took a small sip of her coffee. She had never been happier. Her legs were still giving her some problems but she was able to walk with assistance from Santana and her cane.

She and the brunette lived in Quinn's cabin part of the year and Santana's home, in town, for the rest of it.

Shortly after she filed for divorce, her parent's had disowned her. It had stung emotionally but otherwise hadn't affected her much. She had rarely seen them and she hadn't been dependent on their wealth for years.

It had hurt though, when she found out that they had apparently stayed close with Finn, even after it came out that he had been sleeping around with multiple women.

"We're wonderful, never been better." Santana said, squeezing Quinn's hand under the table as the blonde nodded in agreement.

"I can tell, you're both glowing." Tina said, her smile broadening, "Especially you, Quinn."

"I have been known to have that affect on women." Santana said with a wink, making Quinn swat at her playfully.

Santana blinked and glanced toward her carry on as her phone buzzed loudly, "I'll be back." She said, getting up to go stand just outside of the small sitting area of the restaurant they had met up at.

"Nicely done, Quinn. You really do plan everything perfectly, don't you?" Tina said, shaking her head as she slipped a small box across the table. The blonde snatched it up quickly before tucking it inside her purse.

"I do." She said, flashing the darker haired girl a toothy smile.

"So, where do you plan on asking? Are you going to be a complete cliche and do it on the beach?" Tina asked, raising a brow in amusement.

"Well, we _are_ going to Hawaii."

Tina shook her head and the two of them turned their attention toward Santana as she huffed loudly and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"No, Brittany... You should _not_ be giving Emma chocolate syrup. Because it isn't good for her and she is not going to want to go to sleep tonight."

Quinn shook her head, hoping sincerely that this was Brittany's distraction and that she hadn't actually given Emma chocolate syrup.

"How is _she_ doing?" The publicist asked, a small frown playing at her lips.

"She's doing really well. She teaches dance classes one town over and words part time at the local diner. The commute has been a little problematic for her but she's figuring it out."

"Good, I'm glad."

Quinn made small sound of agreement and continued to watch the brunette talk, now in a much quieter voice. "Honestly, that whole experience has left me _stronger_."

Tina nodded, "You can tell, especially in your new book. Have you ever considered writing about what happened?"

Quinn nodded and moved her eyes back toward the other woman. They widened and stared passed her shoulder as something caught her attention. Her heart began to race as a brunette in a waitress uniform walked toward them.

"Quinn?"

"I-I don't know. I mean, I've considered it but it's not just _my_ story."

Her throat tightened as the other woman continued to approach, Rachel's cold eyes flashing in her mind.

Tina cleared her throat, successfully reclaiming Quinn's attention. "That's understandable. In any case, the new book is fantastic."

Quinn was about to respond when someone paused beside their table, the blonde raised her eyes slowly.

She was relieved to find that the brunette standing over her looked nothing like Rachel up close.

"Quinn Fabray?"

The blonde nodded dumbly, reaching for her coffee to take another sip and willing her hand to not shake in the process.

"Uhm, excuse me... I couldn't help myself, my friend brought over your coffee and came back all excited... I just had to come over myself. Could I have your autograph?" The girl asked shyly, holding up a pad of paper and a pen.

Quinn nodded with a nervous smile, "Of course! I'm really glad to hear that you like my work." She said, accepting the items from the younger woman so that she could sign for her. "What's you name sweetheart?"

"Marley, Marley Rose." The younger woman said, ducking her head as a blush darkened her cheeks. "Thank you so, so much. I can't believe this is happening!"

"It's no problem. Thank _you_ for supporting me and my work, Marley." Quinn said, capping the pen as she finished her signature.

"I've often been called your biggest fan."

Quinn's head shot up at those words and she had to blink several times to make sure that the woman standing in front of her was not Rachel.

Tina was about to ask if the blonde was alright when Santana reappeared.

"Mmm. You know, I believe another brunette already holds that title." She said, winking at the doe eyed girl as she placed a comforting arm around her girlfriend's shoulders.

Quinn blinked, smiling up at the other woman as she nodded in agreement. She quickly passed Marley back her paper and pen as Santana reclaimed her seat.

"Yes, she most certainly does."

The words seemed to echo in her mind a moment and then the quaint restaurant faded and everything went dark. Quinn began to panic, Santana's hand was no longer brushing her own.

She gasped, her eyes flying open as she propped herself up slightly on her forearms. The room was dark around her but she knew it too well to not recognize it, even in the low light.

The curtains were drawn but there were lights flashing from outside and their movement cast odd shadows and streaks across the walls.

"Ma'am, please open the door and come out quietly. We can end this peacefully." Someone said from outside, they seemed to be using a megaphone or some form of projection of their voice. Rachel laughed harshly from somewhere out in the hallway.

" _Peacefully_. Why does everyone want to lie to me, Quinn?" She asked, striding back into the room, pistol in hand.

When the brunette pushed the door open, some of the light came in from the hallway. Illuminating the room enough that Quinn noticed a second body on the floor, "No." Quinn whispered, her heart rate picking up as she tried to crawl toward the prone form.

Rachel paused, watching with amusement as the blonde dragged her body across the floor.

"It was her fault, you know. If she hadn't tried to be the hero... Well, then I would have an actual hostage to work with, now wouldn't I?"

Quinn whimpered and ignored the other woman as she finally reached Santana, she reached out to touch the other woman's cheek and a sob bubbled up her throat when she found it was cold. As her eyes adjusted more to the light, she noticed the large pool of blood that had congealed under the other woman's torso.

The chair Santana had been forced to sit in lay in broken pieces on the floor around them, and her hands were still cuffed behind her back awkwardly. Quinn tried to remember what happened but it only came back to her in flashes. She had struggled with Rachel after burning the ending of Misery's Return but the brunette had gotten the better of her and had hit her with the butt of her gun. She only vaguely remembered Santana getting involved at all and could not remember how the woman she loved had died.

"It is time, Quinn." Rachel said, moving closer to them. Quinn continued to ignore the other woman, her hands trembling as she pulled Santana's stiff form onto her lap.

The blonde's eyes fell shut as the metal of the gun barrel was placed against the back of her head and she tightened her hold on Santana.

The officers outside all went silent as two loud shots were fired off inside. 

_x_

  
_If I can't have you no one can_   
_You'll stay with me among the damned_   
_To keep you warm, I'll hold you tight_   
_The fragrance of a graveyard night_   
_Will remind us of unending love_   
_ & I'll forgive you chosen one..._   


_x_

Fin.


End file.
